


Stress Relief

by ChristinMKay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Author Castiel, Awkward Flirting, Blow Jobs, Booty Calls, Bottom Dean, Denial, Explicit Sexual Content, From Sex to Love, I never meant for this to get so dark, Implied Jo Harvell/Charlie Bradbury, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Matchmaker Gabriel, Matchmaker Sam, Mechanic Dean, Past Abuse, Past Alistair/ Dean Winchester, Past Castiel/Meg Masters, Rape, Sex Toys, Smut, Stalking, Top Castiel, chapter 21-24 is all the dark stuff, chapter 22 is pretty dark i'm sorry, dubcon, god they are so much in fucking denial, mention of murder, nothing bad between cas and dean though, the fluff will return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-03-15 15:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 70,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3452594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristinMKay/pseuds/ChristinMKay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but i’m trying to convince my friends I’m a sex god. So can you please write a fake number on this napkin for me.</p><p>Cas has no idea how a bet with his friends has turned into a booty call arrangement with the most beautiful man on earth, but he is not complaining</p><p>And then it becomes so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Cas can't flirt

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by this tumblr post  
> This a lot of smut, some fluff, some angst. *edit* A lot of angst. The beginning is a lot of pwp, but with the plot the angst grows.  
> I'm a dyslexic and not a native speaker so I'm really sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.  
> Now have fun reading and feel free to leave kudos or comments :)

It is not that Cas is not confident, or not good looking. He is aware of the effect his piercing blue eyes and his messy black hair can have on certain people. It's also not that he doesn't enjoy dating, or having sex. The problem is, that Cas doesn't like to flirt. He always stands too close, stares too much and he doesn't get a lot of references or jokes. Dirty talk or deep conversation are things Cas enjoys, but picking someone up isn’t.

That's the reason why Cas' love life is non existent. And it bugs him. Not just because his best friends call him teasingly a prude for not having one-night stands. But also because from time to time he could release some stress and craves meaningless sex with a random stranger. Especially since he is not someone for relationships. He closed that chapter a long time ago. Ugly memories come to his mind, a sour taste crawls up his throat. Cas shakes his head. He is here to enjoy time with his brother and his best friend, not mourning the past.

“So Cassie, how is it going for you,” Balthazar asks, a cocky grin on his lips already.“Yeah Cassie, what's going on,” Gabriel joins him and Cas sighs.

“If you two mean, if I lately had any amazing meaningless sex with a person, I have to disappoint you,” he mutters and takes a sip of his beer.

“Oh, poor Cassie,” Balthazar starts slurring already, “Well not everybody is hot enough to pick up people.”

Gabriel snickers at the comment and Cas feels rage coming up in his chest. They know why he always hesitates to pick someone up, but of course they can never stop teasing him. “Just because I don't have yet, doesn't mean I can't,” he snaps back at them and regrets it immediately. Cas doesn't like the look Balthazar and Gabriel exchange.

“So you mean you could pick up anyone,” they ask and Cas doesn't know why, but boldly he replies, “I think so.” He blames the alcohol.

“Literally anyone at anytime?”

“Just pick one here and I prove it to you,” as soon as the words are out of his mouth Cas wants to catch them, force them back inside but it's too late. Gabriel is lifting his eyebrows and Balthazar just stares at him for a few seconds, trying to understand what Cas has just said. Then they jerk around, looking for someone Cas can pick up.

“What about that guy?”

“No, too easy. What about him?”

“Here with a date.”

“Hmm.”

Cas is already hoping that they won't find anybody but then he sees Gabriel' eyes widen and a grin spreading all over his face.

“I got one,” he announces and points behind Cas, “ this guy sitting all alone at the bar. The one with the plaid shirt.”

Cas turns around and seriously considers running out of the bar, out of the city and changing his name. He has thought that there was a tiny chance that he could pick up someone, despite his horrible flirting skills. But he doesn't think that his friends would choose Mr. Universe himself. He has to swallow hard. The guy is drop dead gorgeous, Cas can even see it from the distance. Fuck, is all he can think.

“So Cassie, why don't you go over there,” Gabriel teases knowing exactly what Cas is thinking.

“Yeah, prove it, you Casanova,” Balthazar giggles and Cas is hit again with a red wall of anger.

“You'll see,” he hisses and gets up.

He walks over to the bar, his steps hesitant. Maybe Mr. Universe will leave any second if I'm slow enough, he thinks. But the guy doesn't seem to do so. Instead he orders another drink, and Cas curses. Anxiety rushes through Cas, his fingers are scratching over his skin. Yet something just seems to pull Cas closer to the stranger.

The closer he gets, the more beautiful Mr. Universe gets. He has dark blond hair, Cas wants to run his fingers through. Thousands of freckles are splashed over his angular face. No way Cas can get his number.

But then it hits Cas. Who says he has to get the guy's real number. A smile curls over his lips and with more confident steps he approaches the guy and taps him on the shoulder.

“Hi,” he starts, but as soon as Mr. Universe turns around Cas almost chokes. He meets a pair of green eyes, the brightest and greenest green he has ever seen. Fuck, why does this guy have to look like an angel created by god himself, he thinks, before finishing his request and grabs a napkin.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm trying to convince my friends I'm a sex god. So could you please write a fake number on this napkin for me real quick,” his heart stops. Mr. Universe frowns for a second, but then throws his head back and starts laughing.

Great, Cas thinks, I just made the biggest fool of all humanity out of myself, in front of the most breathtaking guy. Shame and embarrassment over come him and Cas wants to hurry back home, empty his own liquor supply. He prays that Gabriel and Balthazar are too drunk to remember this the next day.

But to his surprise the guy stops laughing and says, “Sure.”

Cas tries not to gasp, but Mr. Universe just takes out a pen and doodles down a number and hands the napkin back to Cas with a smile. When their hands touch for a short second something like an electric shock jerks through Cas. Weird, he thinks.

“Thanks,” Cas whispers and turns around to go back to his friends. He is kind of in a trance when he sits down next to them, the napkin in his hand. What the hell did just happen, he wonders. Gabriel and Balthazar seem as dumbstruck as him, their mouths wide open.

Out of the corner of his eyes Cas sees Mr. Universe leave the bar. Good, he thinks, who knows what else those two idiots would force him to do. Still  there is this certain regret tightening his chest.

Balthazar is the first one to come back to reality. He snatches the napkin out of Cas hand and Cas is still too shocked to protest.

“You can convince me too, give me a call. Dean,” he reads out loud and Cas almost chokes again, his heart starts furiously beating.

“Show me,” Balthazar gives Gabriel the napkin and he reads the message with interest, “Convince him of what,” he asks.

“I have no clue,” Cas lies, though he has a pretty good idea of what he should convince this Dean. If that's even his real name. Still Cas is a somehow excited. What if this guy gave Cas his real number? But that's ridiculous, isn't it?

“Well what are you waiting for? Call the male model,” Gabriel demands.

“And why would I do that?” Cas can't call him. Especially not in front of his stupid, older brother and his idiotic best friend. And definitely not when this is probably a fake number.

“Because he just left the bar and you need to fuck your brains out tonight. So go on and call him,” Balthazar explains and Cas regrets going out tonight.

“No, I won't call,” he starts but Gabriel is already typing the number and before Cas can do anything a phone is pressed against his ear.

“Hello,” a voice says and Cas almost falls off his chair because this voice, this voice belongs to Mr. Universe. It sounds deep, husky and raw, like too many whiskeys went down his throat.

“Uhm...hi,” Cas starts to stutter. Well this is awkward, Cas has no clue what to say, and he usually is not the one at a loss of words.

“It's Cas, the...uhm...guy from the bar,” he says and after a few seconds he adds quickly, “My friends forced me to call.”

Cas hears a chuckle from the other end of the line and Cas decides that the sound is pleasant.

“I figured they might do something like this, so I gave you my real number,” Dean explains.

“Oh,” is all Cas can say, feeling a bit sad all of a sudden. Did he really believe for a second this Dean would want him. How pathetic.

“Well and I also think you are pretty hot,” Dean continues, “ And the part with you being a sex god sounds tempting,” Cas chokes. Is this happening? he asks himself.

“So, I know you're in a bar right now,” Dean's voice rips Cas back to reality, “But why don't you come over the Roadhouse and I treat you a drink?”

Cas is still in disbelief. He nods until he realizes that Dean can't actually see him, “Uh yeah, I'm gonna be right there,” he hurries to say.

“Awesome, see you there,” Dean says and hangs up.

Cas stares at the phone in his hand for a few seconds, before he jumps up and grabs his coat.

“Hey, where are you going,” Gabriel and Balthazar want to know.

“Getting laid,” Cas replies and walks outside. This is payback for all the times they teased him, he thinks. With growing anticipation, he walks towards the Roadhouse.

Cas was never a big fan of the Roadhouse. It's a good club, that's for sure, but Cas just prefers normal bars over clubs. Also he has all the stories about Gabriel having gross sex in the bathroom there in mind. He shakes his head. Tonight is not about his big brother, tonight is just about him having some fun. He could use some for sure. His last week was hell, his publisher annoyed him, and he just can't write. There are no words, no ideas, no nothing. Ever since he finished his last book, ever since the burned ground he left, he has problems writing. But that doesn't matter now. All that matters now is a quick and easy lay and that's it.

When Cas enters the Roadhouse he spots Dean immediately. He is sitting at the bar again, talking to the blond barkeeper, a charming smile on his lips.  
Hell no, Cas thinks, this girl is not stealing my one-night stand. He walks over to the bar, confident and fast, his destination right in front of his eyes. This time he is not shy or fears that Dean will turn him down.

When he reaches Dean, he has stopped talking with the barkeeper and he turns around when Cas taps him on the shoulder.

“Hi,” he greets him with a dashing smile. Cas realises that he can't do this sober. He needs to numb his mind, force out the old memories, get clean. Or as a matter of speaking, drunk. In front of Dean is standing a purple drink.

“Hello Dean,” Cas greets him back and points at the glass. Dean just nods and Cas grabs the glass and swallows the weird coloured liquor down. A pleasant buzzing approaches his mind.

“Woah, easy there,” Dean smirks, “Purple nurples are strong,” and Cas can already feel that Dean is right. The alcohol is rushing through his veins, making him dizzy. Dizzy and longing.

“Want another one?” Dean offers but Cas just shakes his head.

“I want something else,” he leans forward and whispers in Dean's ear, and then grabs Dean's collar and kisses him. He blames his drunkenness on it, but doesn't care because holy shit this Dean is an amazing kisser. Cas wonders how the kiss would feel if he weren't drunk. It's hot, messy, wet and Cas does never want to stop. He grinds his hips against Dean's, his jeans already feeling uncomfortable tight.

They break apart for a second and Dean only says, “Let's get out of here,” and pulls Cas with him.

Cas has no idea how they manage to get to Dean's apartment. But Dean is already pushing him through the door,his lips locked on Cas' and greedy hands stripping Cas out of his clothes.

“Looked so hot in the bar,” Dean moans as Cas pulls his pants down. He cups Dean's crotch through his boxers, happily noticing that Dean is as hard as he is.

“You are not so bad yourself,” Cas replies and frees Dean from his boxers before he wraps one hand around Dean's cock giving it a few strokes. Another moan escapes Dean's throat and he nudges Cas into the bed.

“Want to ride you, Cas,” he groans. Then Cas sees that Dean's hand is already between his own cheeks, opening himself up and Jesus, the sight is fucking hot. Dean's eyes are shut, his mouth wide open, his fingers moving in and out. Cas is so distracted by the noises that are leaving Dean's mouth. He barely notices how Dean stripes a condom over his cock and pours lube over it. And then, then Dean places himself over Cas and slowly sinks down on his cock.

  
  
Cas has to suck in a sharp breath, Dean is so tight and so hot, Cas has to concentrate not to come on the spot. All he wants is thrust into Dean's heat. But he knows that Dean hasn't taken the time to prep himself properly and Cas doesn't want to hurt Dean. So he waits until has settled himself on Cas' dick.  
  
“Ugh, you're so huge,” he whimpers and then starts moving. Cas has to moan, the sensation of Dean around him is driving him mad. Dean is moving up and down Cas' cock, faster and faster. Cas starts moving his hips, thrusting inside Dean, meeting him every time. And then he pushes against Dean's prostate and a choking cry leaves Dean's lips.  
  
“Fuck, Cas, fuck me harder,” he begs and Cas starts pounding inside Dean, making both of them shudder with lust and want. Cas doesn't know how much longer he can do this. He is so close to coming and Dean is so hot, so wild and all the whines, whimpers and moans are making Cas want to come so badly.  
  
“Ngggh, Cas, gonna...gonna,” Dean cries out. And then hot jizz splatters over Cas' chest and Dean's muscles are clenching. Cas fucks him through his orgasm, but Dean's tight heat around his cock is sending Cas over the edge as well and with a scream he comes, too.  
  
They both just remain in this position, panting, trying to catch air. Then with a groan Dean collapses on top of Cas.  
  
“You didn't exaggerate with the sex god,” he mutters against the crook of Cas throat and Cas is glad Dean can't see him blush.  
  
“You are also not that bad,” he replies, even though it couldn't be a bigger lie. Cas is sure he just had the most amazing sex of his life and he wonders how awesome sex with Dean must be when both of them are sober. But he won't find out. This was a one-night stand, that's all. Just meaningless, casual sex, Cas tells himself.  
  
Tomorrow morning Cas will be gone and Dean will be nothing more than a hook up, he can brag about with his friends. A wave of regret overcomes Cas, but he is too tired to think more about it. He falls asleep with Dean still on top of him.  
  
  


 


	2. In which Cas is gone with the wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't expect me always to update so fast, I'm a horrible lazy person, but I will always give my best to update as quick as possible.  
> Thanks for the hits, comments and kudos.  
> Now enjoy some smut :)

  
Cas doesn't like the morning afterwards. Another thing that always kept him from one night stands. But this morning, it's worse on a whole new level. First of all, Cas is not a morning person, he hates getting up, needs at least three cups of coffee and is grumpy as hell.  
  
Second of all, he is hungover, his mouth is dry, his head hurts and he feels sick. Also there is dried cum all over his chest and he feels dirty.  
  
Third of all, he is supposed to be out of Dean's apartment by now.  
  
But instead he is still lying in bed, Dean sprawled over him like an octopus, making it impossible for Cas to move. At least not without waking Dean up, which would be awkward.  
  
There are four simple rules when it comes to casual sex:  
  
   
  
1) Leave as soon as possible  
  
2) Don't stay for breakfast  
  
3) No cuddling  
  
4) Never kiss goodbye  
  
   
  
Cas tells himself that Dean lying on top of him doesn't count as cuddling since they both have basically fucked each other into sleep. Definitely not cuddling.  
  
Now he just needs to find a way to get out of there without waking up Dean. The conversation could be awkward. Cas knows that Dean didn't think this was more than just sex, hell they have maybe talked four sentences, nothing more. It's just that, leaving people behind like this always has a bitter smack of guilt with it. He already left so many people. Cas feels bad leaving Dean like this, but he doesn't have a choice. He can't afford attachments.  
  
Luckily for Cas, Dean turns around all of a sudden, but continues sleeping and Cas can slide off the bed. His head hurts like hell and moving feels awful, but he needs to collect all his clothes. He hurries to get dressed and cleaned, but is also careful not to wake Dean up. When he is ready to leave the apartment, he turns around one last time and looks at Dean. He looks peaceful, his face relaxed and younger when he is asleep, his mouth open, a bit drool dripping from it and it makes Cas smile. A smack of guilt hits him, what is ridiculous, that's just the way it works. Still waking up all by yourself sucks, maybe Cas should leave a note.  
  
 _Stupid idea, stupid idea_ , his brain shouts, but Cas ignores it and already looks in the pockets of his coat for something to write on. All he finds is the napkin with Dean's number on it. He smiles a bit, rips it in two parts and keeps the one with Dean's message on it. On the other one he scribbles a short message and puts it on the nightstand.  
  
He allows himself one last glance at Dean, then he leaves.  
  
On his way home Cas stops at a coffee shop to get some caffeine in his blood system. He got laid, he has coffee, he is in a good mood. Not even the grumpy looking barista can change this.  
  
He leaves the coffee shop and takes a sip. And then his writer's block is gone. Out of nowhere ideas are rushing through is head. Seems like some stress relief opens the synapses.  
  
Of course Cas hurries up to get home. As soon as he is through his door, he jumps in front of his computer and starts typing. His fingers are flying over his keyboard. His brain is clattering with the amount of images, dialogues, scenes and character traits.  
  
He doesn't even notice how much time passes. He is lost in his thoughts, not until someone is banging against his door.  
  
“Castiel, open the god damn door,” an angry Gabriel shouts from outside. Cas wonders why Gabriel seems so desperate to yell at him. He considers pretending not to be home for a second. Then he realises that the neighbours probably won't be pleased if Gabriel continues to be so clamorous. So he gets up and walks to his door, “Hi Gabriel,” he greets his brother.  
  
“Why aren't you answering your phone,” Gabriel barks to Cas' confusion.  
  
“Sorry, I didn't know you were my new girlfriend,” even though he can see the rage in Gabriel's eyes, Cas can't help but be sarcastic. He is not in the mood for a fight and he just wants Gabriel to be gone so he can continue writing.  
  
“I've called you a thousand times,” Gabriel ignores Cas' comment. Instead he continues yelling, “I was worried this guy had done something to you.” Of course Gabriel has a point, and Cas almost feels guilty for not calling. Almost.  
  
“You mean besides from giving me the best sex I ever had,” Cas enjoys it, enjoys the baffled expression in Gabriel's face. The idiotic teasing of Gabriel and Balthazar finally has come to an end.  
  
“You...you..,” Gabriel stutters and blinks perplex, causing a smug grin to appear on Cas' face.  
  
“Yes, I did. And now that you've seen that I'm okay, please leave. I'm busy.”  
  
“Is he still in here,” Gabriel squeaks a few octaves higher than usual and Cas has to chuckle.  
  
“No, no he isn't. We were at his apartment and I promise you I will tell you every dirty little detail if you want. But now I need to work and you need to go,” and with those words Cas closes the door leaving a dumbstruck Gabriel on the other side. Cas hesitates for a moment, considers opening the door again and apologizing for being so rude. The last time he closed a door like this right in Gabriel's face is still a vivid memory. But on the other hand, he needs to work on his book.  
  
Cas continues writing. Sometimes he eats a bit cereal that is still left in his kitchen, and sometimes he takes a nap for half an hour, but that's it. He spends hours in front of his computer, drafting, writing, rewriting and it works for  two days.  
  
After two days he is exhausted, tired and craves a shower. Usually that wouldn't keep him from writing, but there is another problem. As quick as the words have come, they disappeared again. His mind is empty, his imagination faded.  
  
A frustrated groan leaves his throat when he gets up. Maybe he needs a break. A night full of sleep will help. Exhausted and tired he falls into his bed and is gone immediately.  
  
  
 Cas is naked. His eyes are closed but he feels the lack of clothes. And he feels something else. Someone else. There are two hands pressed against his chest, knees against his hips and someone is grinding against his crotch. This someone is also making delicious noises, dirty moans, desperate whines and hot whimpers.  
  
“Cas,” a familiar voice groans his name, “just like this. So good, babe.”  
  
His eyes fly open and he stares into the shining green of Dean's eyes. Dean is on top of him, like he had been just a few nights before, moving up and down Cas' cock, his hands buried in Cas' sides. They are definitely going to leave bruises, but Cas doesn't care. All he cares about now is Dean. The way Dean bites his lips to muffle his screams, the way his eyes are squinted together and he sucks in a sharp breath. A deep moan escapes him though, and he throws his head back in ecstasy. Cas feels like his veins are on fire, his breath is short and Dean's noises are doing things to him they shouldn't do.  
  
Cas starts moving his hips, desperate for Dean's touch, desperate for release.  
  
“Ugh, just like that, babe,” Dean almost begs him, “fuck me, fuck me like you mean it,” and Cas does. His moves his hips faster and faster and with a cry Dean comes.  
  
   
  
Cas wakes up, sweaty and with a hard boner. Just a dream, it was just a dream, he realises. He shouldn't be dreaming about Dean, he shouldn't. But somehow Dean is occupying his mind, and it annoys Cas.  
  
A quick glance to the clock tells him that it's half past seven in the morning. Maybe he should take a shower.  
  
While he turns on the water and waits for it to reach the perfect temperature, he thinks about the dream.He is disappointed that it wasn't real, but he is also  disappointed in himself, he realises as he steps into the shower. The dream had just been the memory of the sex he and Dean had a few nights earlier. Considering that Cas makes money with his imagination, this was just a low sex dream. He could have dreamed something so more erotic and hot. Not that the dream hadn't been erotic and hot, but well, there are different things he could have dreamed of.  
  
For example Dean joining him in the shower. Bad idea, his brain yells and his erection gets even harder. Cas has to take care of it. He closes his eyes and wraps his hand around his cock.  
  
“ _Here, let me help you with it_ “, a rough voice says in his mind and Cas knows exactly to whom it belongs. So Dean what if Dean was in Cas' shower. Cas has definitely some ideas. Dean closing his hand around Cas' dick, squeezing it a bit. Starting to move up and down, his thumb swiping over the head of Cas' dick, smearing pre-cum all over it. Cas gasps at the image.  
  
What if Dean would go even further?  
  
 _“Do you like that, babe”_ , he mutters in a husky tone and starts Cas jerking off even harder. And Cas can see it, can see him. The water is running through Dean's wet hair, down his forehead, dripping from his nose as he drops to his knees. He gives Cas a mischievous grin, before he wraps his perfect, full, pink lips around Cas' dick and Cas can't help but moan. Dean's head bobbing up and down, taking as much of Cas as he can, sucking, licking, driving Cas wild. And with a scream on his lips Cas comes.  
  
He comes so hard he has to press one arm against the wall of the shower to hold himself up. His eyes fly open and he almost expects Dean to kneel in front of him, but of course he doesn't. Cas imagination just played him pretty well. It had felt so damn real and then Cas realises, he has a problem.  
  
He shouldn't have sex dreams of Dean and shouldn't jerk off at the thought of Dean giving him a blow job. Dean was a one-night stand, Cas shouldn't waste one thought on him, but he does. He does because the sex has been fucking amazing and Cas could use some more amazing sex for sure. But still, he needs to get Dean out of his head. He can't allow another person to enter his mind like this. He can't allow himself to let Dean get under his skin like this.  
  
Cas walks out of the shower, straight to his phone and dials Gabriel's number. After a few moments Gabriel picks up.  
  
“Gabriel, we're going out,” Cas explains, “I need to get laid again.”  
  
  



	3. In which Dean has a burning sensation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, never listen to me when I talk about the next time I'm going to update, when I say the next day it can be weeks, when I say probably next week I write three new chapters the next day. Also I really have fun writing this story, so pray that my muse wont leave me and new chapters are going to come very fast :)  
> Anyway thanks for the kudos, comments and hits.  
> Here enjoy some smut :)

  
  
Dean is not surprised when he wakes up and Cas is gone. That's the usual when it comes to casual sex with a random stranger. You don't see them in the morning and they don't see you.  
  
Still, Dean can't help but feel sad. Maybe he could have persuaded Cas to have a quickie in the shower, because despite their drunkenness the sex had been awesome.  
  
He gets up and whimpers immediately. His ass hurts and he feels sore. Maybe he should have taken more time to open himself up, but he had been so eager, so driven by lust. It was like Cas somehow bewitched him, made Dean crave Cas' body like a a man lost in the desert craves water. He shakes his head, he should hurry to get a shower and start to forget about Cas.  
  
No pinning over a one-night stand, no matter how amazing the sex was, he tells himself. the hot water is running down his back and relaxing his tense muscles. It's a shame Cas left so early. He would have liked the showe-, Dean doesn't allow himself to finish the thought. He hurries to get out of the shower, hoping he will find something to keep him busy. To keep him from thinking about Cas.  
  
But it doesn't work because the moment he leaves his bathroom, he finds Cas' message. The napkin lays still on Dean's nightstand. Dean's heart stops beating for a second and his lungs won't allow him to breath. Panic rushes through him. What if Cas opened a drawer looking for a pen? If he did, he would have found things Dean definitely doesn't want him to find. But the ink doesn't look like any of the pens Dean owns, and he tries to relax. Instead he finally manages to read the note.  
  
Dean, I had a great time. Thanks, Cas.  
  
That's all it says. But still Dean's insides start to feel weird and he traces the letters of Cas' messy handwriting, a soft smile on his lips. The ringing of his phone rips him back to reality.  
  
“Cas?” is the first thing he asks and damns himself immediately. Why would Cas call him.  
“No, Dean. It's SAM,” Sam answers, “You know, your brother. Who you were supposed to meet yesterday,” and Dean can literally hear Sam making a bitch face. Shit, he had forgotten about Sam.  
  
“Shit, Sammy. I'm sorry, I..”  
  
“Met a Greek god and couldn't wait to get in his pants,” Sam interrupts him, “Jo told me everything. Can't talk yourself out of it this time, Dean.”  
  
Dean swears he is going to kill Jo the next time he sees her. But still he could at least have texted Sam last night.  
  
“Okay, I'm sorry,” he apologizes, “How about I treat you a drink tomorrow night?”  
  
“Can't. I have already plans.”  
  
“Sam, if with plans you mean a study group on a Friday night, it's sad and not acceptable,” Dean teases Sam. It would not be surprising if his nerd brother would actually study on a Friday night though.  
  
“No, Dean, I mean actual plans with someone,” and Dean can hear how Sam bites his lip. So Dean was not supposed to know about this someone.  
  
“Are you seeing somebody?” he asks his brother with curiosity.  
“No, I'm not. Why should I see someone. Why would I? I do not,” Sam denies way too hard and Dean chuckles.  
  
“Sam...”  
  
“Okay, maybe,” comes the shy answer, “But it's nothing serious. Just sex.”  
  
“Ugh, things I didn't want to know,” Dean grunts, “I'll guess I have to treat you that drink another time.”  
  
“Thanks, Dean,” Dean can hear Sam smile.  
  
“No problem, bitch.”  
  
“See you, jerk,” Sam says and Dean hangs up with a smile. He loves his little brother, even though he is not the type to have casual sex. Maybe Dean was not the right role model for him. But hey Sam is an adult and his sex life is actually none of Dean's business and vice versa. In the end Dean is also not telling Sam about his one-night stands. No matter how good they fucked him, or how freaking blue their eyes were, or...Dean wants to bang his head against his walls.  
  
He needs to stop thinking of that guy, asap. He glances to the napkin, he is still holding in his left hand and then back to his phone. Cas called him, so his number is theoretically in Dean's phone somewhere and NO, no, he is not calling Cas. Cas was a one-night stand, not some potential date. Also Dean has no time for dating right now. And he doesn't date, at least not since...Dean shakes is head. He is definitely not going there.  
  
Speaking of time, he looks at the clock of his phone and realises that, if he doesn't hurry up, he will be late at the garage. And even though Bobby let's Dean get away with a lot of things, being late because he was dreaming of his one-night stand, isn't one.  
  
The next two days are like hell for Dean. Blue, piercing eyes are following him, no matter what he's doing. He just can't get Cas out of his mind and it drives him mad. He is too distracted to focus on anything because he just imagines Cas everywhere.  
  
When he's bend over a car, he hears a deep and husky voice say I like it when you are bend over. Or when he is covered to his elbows deep in motor oil it's something like You're so filthy, wanna get even dirtier. And he just can't make it stop. Cas rough voice is just always occupying his mind, whispering dirty, little things and Dean is about to go nuts.  
  
He doesn't manage to finish anything at work. Bobby is not happy about it. His week has been as worse as Dean's. During lunch, Bobby complains about some customer wanting to stay so he can watch Dean fix his car.  
  
"As if he was afraid that we don't fix his car in the right way," Bobby mumbles. Of course Bobby had send the customer away.  
  
Dean stays late on Friday night so he can work off everything. It's two in the morning when he comes home and is glad, that Sam has plans, because Dean is freaking exhausted from his overtime. Exhausted, tense and so god damn horny. It has only been two days and Dean can't remember the last time he has been so sexually frustrated. But that stops, right now, he decides and rushes into his bedroom. He is sure he won't be able to sleep as long as Cas is haunting his brain.  
  
Dean opens one of the drawers of his nightstand. He stares at his huge collection of sex toys, considering which one he should choose. After a few seconds he pulls out one of his biggest dildos. It's blue and the biggest he has. He needs something special to get Cas finally out of his mind.  
  
Dean strips out his clothes, climbs onto his bed and pours half a bottle of lube over his fingers. He kneels on his mattress, one hand pulling his cheeks apart, the other one dives right between them. Dean doesn't even bother starting slow and immediately uses two fingers. He pushes them inside his hole, moving fast and hard, twisting, scissoring himself open.  
  
He tries not to hit his prostate too often, it wouldn't be the first time he would come too soon from only opening himself up. He adds a third finger soon, moving in and out fast, eager to finally get the huge toy inside of him.  
  
After a few more minutes Dean decides that he is ready for the toy and places the head of the dildo against his rim. He hesitates, like always, tells himself that it's okay, that nobody knows about this. He calms himself and then sinks down. He adjusts himself until the entire toy disappears inside him and then starts moving  
  
Dean wants to forget Cas. But the moment he thinks about him, the this dark voice is back. _“Yeah, fuck yourself on the toy, Dean. Looks so hot,”_ Dean tries to ignore the filthy words, Cas' is whispering, but they only encourage him to go fast.  
  
_“You should see your hole, how greedy it swallows the dildo. It's good isn't it? You look so beautiful”_ , Cas continues. It almost feels like Cas is standing behind him. Dean can feel how Cas watches him. Watches how he fucks himself and it's such a fucking turn on. Usually the thought of someone watching him would make Dean uncomfortable. But Cas is different somehow.  
  
_“Still not as big as my cock, hm Dean”_ , and Dean gasps when the toy hits his prostate. _“That's what you want, my huge cock inside you.”_  
  
Shut up, Dean tries to think, but all his brain can process right now is feeling full and Cas' dirty talk. Cas has already talked Dean into madness a few nights before, but was too drunk to even realize it. And Dean had liked it. Usually he hates dirty talk. It makes him panic, especially after that one specific period of his life he tries his best not think of right now. But there is just something about Cas, that makes Dean like his dirty mouth.  
  
_“Want me to fuck you good like you trying to fuck this toy. Want me buried deep inside you, don't you,_ ” all those words make Dean moan and he feels that he is close. There is already a desperate tugging in his stomach. Dean wraps his hands around his cock and starts stroking. Cas' voice continues.  
  
_“Want this to be my hands. Want me to jerk you off, to fuck you through your orgasm. You want me to make you scream.”_  
  
And Dean does. His vision goes white for a moment and his whole body tenses up before it goes completely lax. He is panting hard, not able to move for a few moments before he collapses into his bed and falls asleep.  
  
A few hours later he wakes up, the toy still in his ass and with a groan he pulls it out.  
  
This was counterproductive. Instead of getting Cas out of his mind, he came to the thought of Cas watching him. Dean shakes his head. There is only one solution, he needs to get fucked by someone else, not by a toy, no he needs the real thing.  
  
It's half past seven in the morning, Sam is definitely already awake, that boy never sleeps long.  
  
He grabs his phone and dials Sam's number. After a few moments, which feel like a little eternity, someone finally picks up the phone. Dean yells, “Sam, we are going to get out tonight.”  
  
“Oh, wrong phone,” a sleepy male voice mutters at the other and of the line and Dean is confused. He has dialed Sam's number, why did he end up with a stranger?  
  
“I mean, I've got the wrong phone,” the stranger hurries to explain, “hold a second, I'm gonna hand you to Sam.”  
  
Now it makes sense, this guy has to be Sam's one-night stand and has grabbed Sam's phone thinking it was his. But it's weird that they are still together. Sam usually goes running around this time, so he should have left that guy's place already. Then he hears a muffled “Sorry, got your phone, kiddo.”  
  
_KIDDO_? Dean is sure that one night stands don't use such endearments, but right now he is not able to ask Sam what is going on. When his brother finally answers the phone Dean says nothing more than, “You, me, Roadhouse tonight. I need to get laid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER ALERT: Dean's toys and drawers wont be left unexplored and not just by the reader but also by Cas as well ;)


	4. In which Cas breaks rule #4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I'm doing anymore, this story is just so much fun to write and all your kudos and comments are so encouraging I just can't stop writing.  
> This chapter does not contain any smut, but plot. Don't worry though the porn will return soon :)  
> Now enjoy reading :)

  
“You did not,” Balthazar's laugh is echoing through the entire room. Cas nods blushing, “You did not yell at a stranger that you need to get laid!”  
  
“I did,” Cas admits. Balthazar laughs so hard he almost falls off his barstool, “But how was I supposed to know that it wasn't him, but his newest boy toy.”  
  
“I dunno, maybe his voice,” Balthazar still giggles and orders another drink  
  
“It was half past seven,” Cas tries to save the little bit of his dignity that is left after this morning, but Balthazar just shakes his head.  
  
“Anyway, why is our men-eater not here again?” he asks Cas. Cas is still blushing and accepts the purple nurple the bartender is placing in front of him with a sympathetic smile.  
  
“He said he was 'busy' tonight. Needs to help a 'cousin' who came to town about a week ago,” he explains and makes quotation marks with his fingers.  
  
“You don't believe him?”  
  
“Come on Balth. It's Gabriel. Do you honestly think he would seriously want to miss me getting drunk? Drunk enough to dance and pick someone up again,” and Balthazar shakes his head in response, “Also he doesn't have any cousins. He and I were foster kids and the only family we ever had was our foster family. And I'm pretty sure Michael and Anna had told me if they were coming into town.”  
  
Well technically that's not true. Cas has family he is related to, or more accurate he had. The thought makes him take another purple shot. Maybe Gabriel has a related cousin, he just didn't mention to Cas. But Cas doubts it.  
  
“Sorry, I constantly keep forgetting it,” Balthazar looks at Cas with something Cas would describe as pity in his eyes. It makes Cas a bit angry, he doesn't want pity, doesn't need it.  
  
He is perfectly fine, even though he grew up with a bunch of strangers. Even though he screwed up a lot of his friendships, even though he fucked up a big part of his life. Same goes for Gabriel. But Cas is sure Balthazar doesn't want to upset Cas. Also he wants to get drunk and laid, not in a fight with his best friend.  
  
“It's okay,” he assures, “And now lets stop talking about Gabriel and get drunk instead.”  
  
It takes a few more purple nurples until Cas is drunk enough to hit the dance floor. He really does not like clubs and dancing, but for tonight it's just perfect. He moves between sweaty bodies dancing to the beat of the deafening music. It's loud, it's crowded and dark, only the flashlights diving certain spots in neon lights.  
  
Cas jumps up and down, spins around and get's so drunk his vision gets blurry and he starts feeling dizzy and a bit tipsy. It's perfect to forget himself, forget his worries, to forget Dean.  
  
He ends up in front of a couple dancing back to chest. Cas would love to dance with the guy at the front.  
  
As if he could read Cas' thoughts the guy looks up and gives Cas a blinding, bright smile. The dances away from his previous parter to dance with Cas. And hell that guy knows how to dance, he shakes his hips to the rhythm, moving more and more into Cas' personal space and Cas lets him. At some point the guy's hands are running down Cas sides, sending shivers down his spine. Their hips are starting to grind against each other.  
  
And then, then hot and wet lips are on Cas', sucking and biting on his bottom lip. Hands softly tug his hair and Cas moans. the music is too loud for anybody to hear it anyway. His pulse is vibrating, there is this murmur in his ears and he can hardly see anything in the twilight. Cas is glad when the guy drags him out of the club, lips occasionally brushing over Cas' mouth, his face or down his neck.  
  
Outside the club, he can finally see better. The last thing he thinks is, who decided to take all the stars from the night sky and place them on that man's face. Then he passes out.  
  
   
  
The urge to throw up wakes Cas up.  
  
He has no idea where he is, but he gladly grabs the bucket someone hands him and vomits. This someone also presses a cold, wet cloth against his forehead and mutters low words, “It's okay, just let it out,” and Cas does. He feels miserable. And then he realizes that he has no idea where he is or what happened.  
  
He looks around, panic overcoming him. He sits on a couch, the room he is in is darkened and there is a stranger sitting next to him. Cas feels like vomiting again, his heart racing, fear rushing through him, and he starts to sweat.  
  
“Hey, Cas, Cas. Relax,” the stranger tells him and Cas' calms down. The stranger knows Cas' name and his voice seems familiar and as well does this place. Cas' eyes begin to adjust to the darkness and then he starts to recognise the place.  
  
“Dean,” he asks in confusion, he tries to get up, but a sharp pain shoots in his head and with a groan he collapses back onto the couch.  
  
“Yup, it's me. And I wouldn't do that, if I were you,” Dean advises him, “You had a lot to drink.”  
  
“Ugh, I'm aware. But what happened,” Cas mumbles, “ I remember dancing in a club with some handsome guy. We went outside and...Oh god, don't tell me that was you.”  
  
“You think I'm handsome,” Dean teases and Cas smacks him, but regrets it immediately. Moving too fast causes him to throw up again. He swears never to drink again. Why did he get drunk in the first place? Oh yeah, because he wanted to get laid. Wait does that mean...  
  
“Did we..did we have...” Cas stutters.  
  
“Did we have sex?” Dean finishes the rest of Cas' question, “Nah, I don't get off on rape.”  
  
Cas blinks confused and Dean sighs, “Dude you were unconscious. As soon as we left the club you passed out and no matter how much I need hot sex, I'm not doing anything without anybodies consent.”  
  
“Oh,” is all Cas manages to say, “thanks.”  
  
“Don't mention it,” Dean waves with his hand and gives Cas a small smile. Cas smiles back. Dean has a pretty smile, he thinks and relaxes.  
  
But then he remembers that he shouldn't stay too long. He needs to go, needs to leave, get out of Dean's apartment and get home. This is getting too domestic, too intimate.  
  
“I probably should get going,” he tells Dean and gets up, still a bit dizzy and still with a headache.  
  
“Dude, it's 4am. You are not going anywhere.”  
  
“But..”  
  
“No but! Get back on the couch and get some sleep,” Dean demands and he is probably right. Going home right now would be horribly stupid. So Cas just nods and sits down again, his eyelids heavy and burning. Maybe getting some sleep isn't the worst thing.  
  
“Okay,” he mumbles sleepily, lying back, “ 'm gonna sleep.”  
  
“Good night, Cas,” he hears Dean say and then he is gone.  
  
The next time he wakes up, some sunlight is shining through the windows. Tired he fumbles for his phone, 9 am it says. He blinks a few times, not in the mood to get up, even though he should leave. Maybe I can close his eyes for another five minutes, the thinks.  
  
Three hours later Cas jerks up cursing himself for falling asleep again. He also curses himself for drinking so much. His head feels like someone worked on it with a sledge, trying to punch a hole through his skullcap. His throat feels like he tried to swallow a desert.  
  
Thank God, Dean, who Cas can hear snoring from his bedroom, left him a glass with water and aspirin on the little table next to the couch. Cas takes it relieved.  
  
Shit, it hits Cas, he should have left like hours ago, he shouldn't even have stayed. You don't stay at your one-night stand's place for so long.  
  
Especially if you didn't have sex and you especially don't sleep till noon on a Sunday. That's what couples do, they sleep long, have a lazy Sunday morning and then have brunch.  
  
He needs to go, now. With panic coming up in his chest, Cas grabs his coat and rushes out of Dean's building.  
  
This has been a disaster. He didn't get laid, he didn't get Dean out of his head and he just feels shitty. But not just because of a fucking hangover, but also because a wave of guilt overcomes him. He could at least have thanked Dean. But on the other hand, he had already spend too much time at Dean's place and he doesn't plan on spending any more time there. He can't allow himself to get closer to Dean, he needs to get him out of his life.  
  
   
  
  
  
  
  



	5. In which Dean wants to punch destiny in the face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for those of you that were worried, I did get enough sleep (7 wonderful hours) but thanks, you are all very sweet.  
> Thanks also for all the other comments, I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

Dean is in a bad mood. He still can't concentrate, he messes things up at work and everybody annoys him 24/7. It's been a week since he met Cas and had fucking amazing sex, that left with the biggest sexual frustration since high school.

Also his plan of fucking Cas out of his mind didn't work. Ne didn't manage to get laid, but instead to run into Cas again and then they didn't even have sex. And then Cas had vanished without a word.

Not that he had expected to sleep with Cas, after the guy had passed out on his couch. But Dean could have gone home with anybody else, after realizing, that the entire time, he had danced with Cas. Yet Cas could have ended up with a not so nice guy, who didn't care about things like consent and backing off.

Also Dean is pissed. He doesn't expect cookie points for not raping Cas, god no, and it's not like they are boyfriends or something like it, Dean thinks. But Cas could at least have stayed till Dean woke up, or said thanks.

And on the top of all things he hasn't managed to see Sam all week, since his little brother has been busy meeting with his 'study group'. Like Dean doesn't know that Sam is seeing someone, hell Sam has even told Dean, he did, even though Sam had claimed it was just casual sex.

Casual sex his ass. You don't spend Friday, Saturday and Sunday night with someone you're just having causal sex with. And they also don't call you honey or any other term of endearment. Dean had been okay going to the club all on his own on Saturday, but now it's been days since he saw Sammy the last time. It kinda hurts him that Sam doesn't want to tell him that he is dating someone. But okay, Sam's decision, Dean thinks and drops some tools by accident. With a frustrated groan he picks them up, only to find Bobby standing in front of him, eyebrows lifted.

“You okay, boy,” he asks and Dean just nods. He is not in the mood to spill his guts.

“Really?”

“Yes Bobby, I'm fine,” Dean answers maybe a tone to harsh but Bobby doesn't seem to care.

“Good. Charlie and Garth already went home, but there is still one costumer left,” he tells De an, “Could you take care of him and then close the garage? I would like to be home early today. Crowley is cooking and I should watch out that he doesn't set our kitchen on fire and turns the entire place into hell.”

“No problem Bobby,“ Dean promises and moves to the front, happy to have another car to fix, so he can distract himself. And with Bobby gone, he is able to work all night. He wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. Dreams of blue eyes would come and haunt him.

The car is a golden '78Lincoln Continental, not bad, but nothing compared to Dean's baby.  _ “Okay, let's gonna fix you up” _ , Dean thinks before he realizes that he has no idea what exactly this car needs or the owner wants.

“I'm gone,” Bobby passes him on his way out.

“Hey, is the owner of the car still in the waiting room,” Dean asks and Bobby just nods, “Can you please tell him to come in?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thanks,” Dean calls after him before he starts collecting and arranging his tools. Calling him a neat freak is a bit overdramatic, but he likes it when everything is clean and in order. So what if he is not fond of germs, most people aren't either.

When he hears someone approaching him from behind, he turns around to greet them, but instead...

“Dean?”

“Oh you gotta be kidding me,” Dean feels like destiny is playing some mean trick on him. and judging by the helpless shrug Cas is giving him, Cas feels the same.

“What are you going here,” he almost hisses hostile, because he is still kinda pissed at Cas for leaving, but he tries to act all cool. He fails miserably. Cas on the other hand, doesn't seem to feel uncomfortable at all.

“My oil needs changing,” he answers and points at the car behind Dean, “And a friend of mine has told me about this garage.”

Dean just nods, not knowing how to react. He just stands there and stares at Cas, thousand of thoughts going through his mind. There are two voices yelling at each other,  **“** _ Come on, this is your chance. You wanted to sleep with that guy again the entire week”,  _ and, _ “Get away from him, now.” _

The silence is awkward and Dean first realizes that he has said nothing . Cas starts rubbing the back of his neck and mumbles, “But I can go somewhere else if you prefer that.”

“No, no,” Dean replies way too fast and hurries to add, “I mean, it's no problem. I can even do you... it , I can do it today.”

“Really, that would be wonderful.”

“Yeah, you can pick me...I mean your car. You can pick up your car around seven,” Dean considers stabbing himself with a wrench. What the hell brain, you're supposed to be on my side, not humiliate me, he curses his mind.

Cas just gives him an amused smirk, “ I will,” he winks at Dean and then walks out, leaving an embarrassed Dean behind.

Time passes fast and when Dean is finished it's already half past six. He hurries to change from his working clothes to jeans and a shirt and combs with his hands through his hair.

What the hell am I doing, he asks himself, Cas is just a guy you slept with, you don't need to impress him.

“Are you done,” a voice behind him suddenly says and Dean jumps around.

“Geez, Cas,” he breathes out in relieve, “a little warning the next time? It's like you appeared out of fucking nowhere.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No, it's okay. You just scared the hell out of me. Anyway I'm done. Just follow me to the office, pay and then you are free to drive into the sunset with your car,” what the hell is Dean rambling about? Sunsets? Cas must think, that he is completely nuts, but the other man still follows him to the office.

Dean hurries to write a bill and Cas hands him the money. The just stand there afterwards, staring at each other, saying nothing. It's awkward and Dean wants to move, to say something but he can't. He and Cas are standing only inches apart and he can't help but look into those intense, electric, blue eyes. The room starts to feel unbearable hot and the tension between them is burning. Cas' eyes are piercing through Dean and there is something like a mischievous smile on Cas' lips.

“Are you the only one still working, Dean,” Cas asks, his voice deep and rough. Dean just nods, still not able to say something. He swallows hard instead and then finds himself slammed against a wall, hot lips on his

“ _Bad idea, bad idea, he shouldn't do this”_ , Dean thinks. But the moment Cas tongue swirls through Dean's mouth, it shuts down.

Dean is so busy with kissing Cas, that he doesn't notice the hand that slips under his waistband. First when Cas' long fingers grab Dean's cock tight, Dean whimpers in surprise. He can feel Cas' smirk on his lips, when he starts stroking Dean. Cas' mouth wanders down, onto Dean's neck. He sucks little love bites into Dean's flesh while roughly jerking Dean off. His grip his hard and his movements fast, making Dean tremble and moan. His cock is already leaking with precum and he is desperate for more. More friction. More Cas, who's thumb is right now swiping over the sensitive and swollen head of Dean's dick.

“Shit, Cas,” Dean groans, one hand tugging Cas' hair, the other one scratching down Cas' back.

Cas' lips are still working on Dean's neck and what ever he is doing with his tongue, it's magic for Dean. Sweat starts to run down his forehead, his body tenses up more and more. And when Cas stops kissing his skin and whispers with his broken, husky voice “Come for me,” Dean does.

They just remain there, both panting, both resting against the wall. There are a lot of things Dean wants to say, wants to ask, things running through his mind. He wants to understand them, wants Cas to give him an answer, but he is just still to shocked to speak.

Cas is the first one to move,he pulls his hand out of Dean's pants, and makes a step back.

“Consider this as tipping,” he says deadpan and turns around to leave the office, but that is so not gonna happen. Dean wont let him leave this time.

“Wait, for fuck's sake, wait,” he yells angry and confused, “We need to talk about this! Now!”

Cas turns around frowning, “And what would you want to talk about,” he hisses.

“I don't know, maybe why you just jerked me off,” Dean demands to know. He is not quite sure if Cas is just an ignorant dick or just doesn't want to talk about it.

His answer though is surprising, “I enjoy fucking you.”

That's all, nothing more. The statement lingers in the air for a few seconds.

Dean should be angry, should be mad as hell. He is a person, not somebody's fucktoy. It's not that he didn't enjoy it, or didn't want it. But Cas should not just disappear like this afterwards.

“But I'm not interested in a relationship, nor do I have the time for it.”

Dean blinks a few times, tries to process what Cas has just told him and then.

“I don't want to be in a relationship either, and getting fucked by you is also something I like. But that's no reason to just come into my life and jerk me off,” he says.

“I apologize," Cas says, "It was nice though. Sleeping with you. It was somehow a stress relief."

“I know what you mean,” Dean admits with a smile.

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I should take my car and just go then,” Cas suggest and Dean just nods.

Cas has almost reached his car, when an idea hits Dean, “Cas. Cas, wait, Cas,” he yells and runs out of the office. It's nuts, ten times of crazy. But what the hell, life is short.

“Cas!”

“Yes, Dean?”

“So if I don't want a relationship. And you don't want a relationship, but we both enjoy screwing each other, maybe...” he makes and dramatic pause.

“Maybe what,” Cas lifts his eyebrows waiting inpatient for Dean to finish his sentence.

“Maybe you should just give me a call from time to time,” Cas frowns and Dean adds, “You know if you want to get rid of some tension?”

“You mean like friends with benefits,” Cas asks, his voice sounding not uninterested.

“Not even that. I mean we don't know each other, we don't have to get to know each other. We just keep having casual sex whenever we need it,” Dean hopes that Cas says yes. It would make things so much more easier. No more feeling guilty for dreaming about blue eyes. No more sexual frustration. No more fake dirty talk in his mind.

Cas is biting his lips, considering Dean's offer, before he says, “Well I already have your number.”

 

 


	6. In which Cas is a total assbutt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you finally are gonna find out why Cas behaved like a fucking jerk in this chapter. It starts the moment Cas leaves the garage while Dean is changing his oil.  
> Also the last chapter and this one were a bit dark, but in the next chapter the fluffy smut and awkward humor will return.  
> Thanks as always for all the comments and kudos.  
> Now enjoy reading the new chapter :)

  
  
  
Even though Cas has played it all cool, he starts freaking out the moment he steps outside the garage. It's not too late, he can still go back inside, take his car and let someone fix it anywhere else. But then he would admit that it is bothering him, that Dean fixes his car and that here is something between him and Dean. Okay, who is he kidding, they had mind blowing sex and even a blind man would see the tension between them.  
  
He has tried to forget Dean, but since they constantly keep running into each other, it's impossible for Cas. And it annoys him. He is on the edge all the time, he can't write, anymore, can't properly do anything and it drives him mad. Dean is all over his mind, mixed feelings like guilt and desire are rushing through him, Cas hates it.  
  
Why, oh why does he have to meet Dean again and again. Meeting Dean in the Roadhouse was likely though, Cas has to admit. But not today. Cas didn't even know about this garage until Gabriel told him about it. Gabriel.  
  
Furious, he grabs his phone and dials Gabriel's number, punching the buttons.  
  
_“Hey, Cassie. What's up?”_  
  
“How did you know?” Cas growls in response  
  
_“Know what?”_  
  
“Where he worked? How did you find it out?” Cas screams, he doesn't care that he is in public, or that this is unfair to Gabriel. Cas is just done, and can't do this anymore, he feels horrible. This whole situation is messing with him, with his head, Dean is messing with his mind. And that's why Cas doesn't like one night stands and casual sex. It gets out of control, because life isn't all nice and fair for Castiel Novak. So he yells.  
  
_“I have no idea what you are talking about or about who!”_  
  
“My one-nigh stand! He works in the garage you told me about,” Cas snaps.  
  
_“Oh shit, that must have been awkward,”_ Gabriel chuckles and it just angers Cas more.  
  
“Don't laugh! How did you find out where he was working?”  
  
Gabriel stops chuckling. He is used to Cas sometimes being hotheaded, especially if he is stressed, but that doesn't mean he just keeps silent takes it.  
  
_“Castiel, I hardly remember that guy, I was wasted that night. I know he had a common name and didn't look half way bad. That's all. And why are you so freaking out about it. You met him again, whoah big deal. You don' have to marry him,”_ Gabriel answers calm, but Cas can hear that he is pissed. And Cas can't blame him. Nobody likes to get yelled at for no reason and Cas plans on apologizing, as soon as things have calmed. He needs to clear his mind though first.  
  
Gabriel seems to see it similar, _“Maybe we should talk later, when you don't act like a jerk,”_ he says and hangs up.  
  
Gabriel is right and Cas knows it. He doesn't act rationally at the moment and wants to smack himself.  
  
He has two hours to spend before he can pick up his car and he needs to sort things out.  
  
Dean somehow managed to invade Cas' mind and Cas can't shake him off. What is ridiculous since he doesn't know the first thing about that guy.  
  
Clueless he walks through the streets. He could just go back, get his car, leave and pray that he never sees Dean again. Because that worked out so well the first time, he thinks. Deep down inside he has to admit that he is glad he met Dean again. Because Cas wants to sleep with him again, so he can get Dean out of his system.  
  
Cas shakes his head, trying to stop his thoughts. But of course he can't. He can't remember the last time he has ever felt so good after sex, like he did when he had slept with Dean. The problem right now is,that he doesn't want a relationship. He needs to work on his book and relationships are always just exhausting and meant not to work out, at least all his past one have been. Also hot sex does not guarantee that Dean and he would get along. "Maybe they are as different as two people could be", Cas thinks, knowing it's bullshit.  
  
If Cas sleeps again with him, Dean might get the wrong impression and Cas doesn't want to hurt Dean or deal with unrequited feelings. This settles his decision.  
  
Cas will take his car and get away from Dean, hoping he will finally manage to forget him.  
  
Confident he returns to the garage, where Dean is standing with his back to him, giving Cas' car one last look. Cas notices that Dean has changed his working clothes for casual ones and damn it he looks good in those jeans. "Get to the point," Cas reminds himself.  
  
“Are you done,” he asks and Dean jerks around.  
  
“Geez, Cas,” Dean seems a bit unsettled “a little warning the next time? It's like you appeared out of fucking nowhere.”  
  
“I'm sorry,” is all Cas manages to say .  
  
“No, it's okay. You just scared the hell out of me. Anyway I'm done. Just follow me to the office. Pay and then you are free to drive into the sunset with your car,” Dean rambles, blushes and then starts walking.  
  
Cas follows him with a smirk, liking the thought of driving into the sunset. Also Dean is cute when he is flustered and no, no, no, he needs to get Dean out of his life. Thinking how cute Dean is, isn't helpful.  
  
Still he can't help but glance at Dean's butt on their way to the office. He causally notices that Dean is the only worker left in the garage. Cas should hurry up and leave fast, but he doesn't.  
  
When Dean hands him the bill and Cas gives him the money, nobody of them moves. They are standing so god damn close and Cas can feel how Dean'y eyes rest on him. He can't help but stare back and a part of his brain screams that he should run, get out of there, but he doesn't.  
  
Instead he hears himself say, “Are you the only one still working, Dean?”  
  
Dean nods and swallows hard, having no idea what that sight does to Cas.  
  
His brain short cuts and his instincts take over his body. He closes the last inches between him and Dean and then presses Dean against a wall. Their lips smack together, Dean's hands are gripping his collar tight and he is kissing Cas back fiercely. It's like Cas is in a trance like ecstasy, adrenaline rushing through is veins. He his high on the feeling of Dean's body against his, dizzy from the scent that lingers on Dean's skin. Cas wants to absorb it, wants to have all of Dean, can't let go. He is driven by desire, want, lust and desperation. Some part of him knows that this will definitely be the last time he will kiss Dean. Inhale his smell, and watch his beautiful face,while he makes Dean come whispering, “Come for me.”  
  
They are both out of breath, both not moving and Cas' brain slowly starts working again, making him panic.  
  
Shit, shit, fucking shit, this was such a mistake, it hits Cas. He makes a step back and looks at Dean. Fuck, this was such a mistake. Cas should disappear right now. He can't allow himself to get close to Dean. Or Dean getting close to him. He needs to do something.  
  
“Consider this as tipping,” he hears himself say, and regrets it immediately. What the hell is he doing? There are thousand ways to make it clear that this should not happen again and of course had to choose the asshole way. He sickens himself. But maybe that's good. Dean knows will never want him again for sure.  
  
Still Cas needs to turn around because he doesn't want to see Dean's hurt expression.  
  
"You did exactly what you didn't want to do, you hurt him," he thinks ashamed. He just wants to walk away, but Dean doesn't let him.  
  
“Wait, for fuck's sake, wait,” Dean yells in anger, “We need to talk about this! Now!”  
  
“And what do you want to talk about,” Cas sounds more hostile than he had planned on, guilt growing inside his chest. He knows exactly what Dean wants to talk about.  
  
“I don't know, maybe about why you just jerked me off?”  
  
  
_Because I crave your touch_  
  
_Because you drive me wild_  
  
_Because I can't have a relationship_  
  
_Because this all scares me_  
  
_Because I don't want to hurt you_  
  
_Because I can't_  
  
_Because I want you_  
  
   
  
He doesn't say anything of this though. All that comes out of his mouth is, “I enjoy fucking you.”  
  
Cas feels like such an asshole, but he can't stop talking, “ But I'm not interested in a relationship, nor do I have the time for it.”  
  
Cas and relationships just don't work out. And Dean deserves better than him. He expects Dean to yell again, to punch him, to tell him to get the fuck out, but he doesn't. He just blinks a few times.  
  
“I don't want to be in a relationship either, and getting fucked by you is also something I like. But that's no reason to just come into my life and jerk me off,” Dean answers after a moment.  
  
Dean is right. Of course he is. Cas feels worse and worse.  
  
“I apologize," Cas says, "It was nice though. Sleeping with you. It was somehow a stress relief."  
  
“I know what you mean.”  
  
Good.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
They just stand there and stare at each other. It takes Cas a few seconds before he realizes that he should leave. He behaved like a jackass. He shouldn't bother Dean any longer.  
  
“Maybe I should take my car and just go then,” Cas suggests.  
  
Dean nods and Cas insides burn with guilt again. He didn't used to be like this, be like the Hulk. He didn't used to become some sort of monster when placed in the wrong situation. He didn't. Not until Meg, but this is now the wrong time to go through all this again. He has almost reached his car when he hears Dean's voice.  
  
“Cas. Cas, wait, Cas.”  
  
Cas stops and turns around, “Yes, Dean?”  
  
“So if I don't want a relationship. And you don't want a relationship, but we both enjoy screwing each other, maybe...,” Dean pauses.  
  
So Cas asks, “Maybe what?”  
  
“Maybe you should just give me a call from time to time. You know if you want to get rid of some tension?”  
  
Cas can't quite believe what Dean just said. The guy should hate him, punch him and not suggest more casual sex. Cas just proved to be a major asshole and still Dean wants to sleep with him. Completely dumbstruck, he still asks, “You mean like friends with benefits?”  
  
“Not even that. I mean we don't know each other, we don't have to get to know each other, we just keep having casual sex whenever we need it,” Dean explains.  
  
Cas knows he should say no. This couldn't be a bigger mistake. He slept with Dean once and is already addicted. Also friends with benefits is always a stupid idea. Someone always gets hurt and the friendship ends. But on the other hand Dean is right. They aren't friends, they don't know each other, they are strangers. It could work. Also Cas wouldn't mind having great sex whenever he is stressed or can't write. And even though his brain screams that it's a bad idea, he says, “Well I already have your number.”  
  
“So does this mean yes,” Dean asks with a smirk on his lips and Cas just nods.  
  
“Feel free to text me and I'll come over. Since I called you you have my number as well. I should head home though,” Cas adds before he gets into his car.  
  
“Bye,” Dean says and then Cas drives away. Cas waits for a new panic attack, but he keeps calm. Maybe because dean doesn't seem to be mad, maybe because they things are clear now. Maybe it's a good idea and maybe this is now a chance to make up for his behaviour, it occurs to Cas. And he should start with Gabriel.  
  
On his way to his brother, Cas stops at a pastry shop to buy Gabriel's favourite cup cakes. Sadly, his idea to use them as peace offering doesn't work out. When he enters Gabriel's building, he bumps into a freakishly tall man and drops the cupcakes. Cas curses and the man of course apologizes, but that doesn't fix the cupcakes. Still a few minutes later, Cas stands in front of Gabriel's door, crumpled cupcakes in his hand and waits for him to open the door.  
  
Cas doesn't let Gabriel even say something when he opens the door, but starts right away, “Listen I'm sorry. I was a total douchbag and I brought you cupcakes, but I bumped into someone and they are now a bit broken, but still good.”  
  
Gabriel stares at him for a few seconds, before a smirk appears on his face. He starts shaking his head, “You can be such a pain in the ass sometimes, but I could never deny cupcakes,” and invites Cas in with a nod.  
  
“Thanks,” Cas says and follows Gabriel inside and then notices a red, huge, hickey that can't be older than 24 hours.  
  
“Gabriel, what is that on your neck,” he asks, a shit eating grin spreading across his face. Gabriel clutches on hand on the hickey and answers with a shrill voice, “Nothing!”  
  
Cas just can't help but laugh and then he can't stop. The entire day was just too much. He has felt horrible for days. Today he behaved like the biggest jerk in creation and the fact that Gabriel is embarrassed of a hickey just seems so ridiculous to Cas.  
  
“I think I need a tea,” he manages to say and then collapses on Gabriel's couch.  
  
“I'll make you one,” Gabriel hurries in his kitchen, “And you should eat one of those cupcakes, you look like you could need one,” he adds.  
  
Cas wants to take one thankfully, but in this right moment his phone is buzzing. It's a text form Dean.  
  
  
  
**Wanna come over 2morrow @ 7**  
  
   
  
Cas replies with a yes instantly. Then he decides to save Dean's number in his phone book. For a short second he considers typing something funny like booty call, but then he just types four letters: Dean

 

 


	7. In which Dean forgets how to English

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating yesterday, I sadly was busy with school. I also can't promise that I will update tomorrow because I've got to work, but I will give my best.  
> Now go read some smut :)

  
Friday night finds Dean in his bed, being a whimpering, trembling mess. A pair of pink lips is wrapped around his cock, one hand pressed on his stomach to hold him down, the other one busy thrusting in and out of his ass. Dean doesn't know on what he should focus. The wet, slick heat of Cas' mouth around his dick. Or those three, clever, long finger, constantly jabbing his prostate, making him see stars.  
  
He throws his head back against some pillows, his hips buckling, his back arching and a groan on his lips.  
  
“Fuck, Cas,” he pants, voice broken. This guy is driving him mad. The sensation of prostate stimulation and a blow job at the same time forces Dean to shut his eyes, he tries to keep them open. The sight of Cas' mouth stretched around his cock is just too fucking hot. Dean just can't stop staring at Cas' head bobbing up and down. The lust in his blue eyes when he takes all of Dean in. His nose is touching Dean's pelvis and oh god when his tongue swirling over the head of Dean's cock, it makes Dean lose his sanity. And the fact that Cas is still wearing his pants and Dean is already completely naked shouldn't be so hot. But hell it turns Dean on so much.  
  
Dean is sure that if Cas doesn't stop soon, he will come way too soon. He tries to inform Cas, wants to tell him to stop teasing him and already get up to fuck him. But when Dean opens his mouth all that comes out is a wanton moan. Cas seems to understand what Dean means though. Still he doesn't stop. He starts sucking harder and his fingers are moving furiously, hitting Dean's prostate every goddamn time.  
  
And Dean can't hold it any longer, he wants to warn Cas, but it's like the speech area of his brain went on vacation. All he does is open his mouth and then he comes with a scream, his entire body jerking up, every single nerve of his body pulsing.  
  
Dean expects Cas to back off, when hot cum shoots out of him, but Cas doesn't. Instead he swallows it all and even licks over his lips when Dean is finished and that action makes Dean almost hard again.  
  
When Cas pulls his fingers out of Dean Dean can't help but whine at the feeling of being empty. But on the other hand it's Dean's time to return the favour. He wants to get up, get Cas out of his pants, but Cas just shakes his head and pushes him softly back to bed.  
  
“Turn over,” he orders with his low, husky voice and without hesitation Dean obeys and rolls on his stomach.  
  
He hears how Cas unzips his pants and rips the wrapping of a condom open with his teeth. Another point that goes on the list of things that shouldn't be so god damn hot, Dean thinks.  
  
Cas' fingertips brush down Dean's spine, making him shiver in anticipation. and when Cas' fingers move between his cheeks, stroking through the crack of his ass, Dean is already hard again. Even though he still can feel his pulse beating through his entire body from his former orgasm, he can't wait for Cas getting inside of him.  
  
Cas seems to completely understand Dean, even without words and pulls Dean's cheeks apart.  
  
“Oh if you could see your hole, Dean. How it's clenching, so needy, so eager to be filled with my cock,” Dean can hear the smirk in Cas' voice. At this point Dean is pretty sure Cas could even make him come just with dirty talk.  
  
“Cas, please,” he whimpers and finally, finally feels the tip of Cas' cock nudging his entrance. Slowly he sinks in, stretching Dean out more and more until he is buried deep inside Dean, his cock only inches away from Dean's prostate. Dean would just need to shift a bit, but of course he doesn’t.  
  
Cas pulls out slowly again, his chest pressed against Dean's back. And Dean is almost disappointed by Cas' gentle movements when without warning Cas slams inside Dean, hitting his prostate with such an impact that Dean's vision goes white for a second. He can't help but scream.  
  
“Better?” he hears Cas whisper with his rough voice right next to his ear. Dean just pules not able to form any words.  
  
Cas pulls out of him again and slams in Dean again without a warning. Dean presses his head against a pillow, trying to muffle his cry of pleasure.  
  
“Don't hide those pretty sounds from me,” Cas demands. He pushes inside Dean once more with such a force that Dean's head shoots up. He can't help but moan so loud his neighbours might complain.  
  
“Just like that,” Cas encourages him. Then he starts sucking marks into Dean's neck, while repeating his movements. Pulling out carefully, waiting a few seconds and then moving back inside with such a power, jabbing Dean's prostate. It makes Dean forget everything. The only thing he can do is, scream, moan and cry out Cas' name. And Cas pace gets faster and faster, his pounding harder and harder, the sex rougher and rougher. He scratches his teeth over Dean's back. His fingers are digging into the flesh of Dean's shoulders, leaving bruises. But Dean doesn't mind, doesn't even realize the soft pain, his mind is just a huge blank space. His brain is nothing more than chemical reactions, filling him with need and want. There is no lust, no desire, just the simple overwhelming pleasure.  
  
The constant pressure on his prostate is making him tremble in ecstasy. Cas thrusts, pushing him deeper into the mattress, giving Dean's aching, hard cock the friction it needs. But Dean doesn't even notice. He just feels Cas' movements, how he stretches his insides, brushes over his prostate again and again.  
  
Dean is so far gone it takes him a few seconds even to realize that he is coming. But then his orgasm is so fucking intense. His blood is boiling, adrenaline rushing through is veins, his nervous system burning. His body is jolting, trembling, shattering and Cas just keeps fucking him through is orgasm. Fucking against his prostate until the pleasure turns into slight pain, but Cas doesn't stop, and Dean doesn't want him to. He cries out in pleasure, in pain, in lust. Cas is overstimulating him, taking him apart, making him see stars and letting him forget his own name. And through the waves of the aftershock of his orgasm he feels Cas coming.  
  
Cas hips start to stutter, a groan comes out of this throat and then Dean can feel Cas coming inside him, or more accurately inside the condom. Dean is gonna ask him to leave it out the next time, wishing he could feel Cas' hot cum filling him up. Cas forehead falls against Dean's shoulder. They both remain in this position for a few minutes, panting, trying to catch breath.  
  
“That was awesome,” Dean manages to say between breaths, glad that is brain is able to form words again.  
  
“Couldn't agree more,” Cas mumbles as response and pulls out of Dean, gets up and throws away the condom. Then he turns around and asks, “Water?”  
  
“In the kitchen,” Dean answers and shifts back on his back only to see Cas' naked ass moving out of his bedroom. A few seconds later Cas returns with two glasses filled with water and hands one to Dean, who takes it gladly.  
  
“Do you want to head home, or stay here,” Dean says after they both have emptied their glasses.  
  
“I would prefer going home. But if you want me to stay, I will, of course,” Cas replies and Dean is already about to open his mouth, but Cas continues, “And please be honest. You don't have to feel obligated to say you don't care, if you need me to stay here.”  
  
It's kinda cute, Dean thinks. Even though they are just fuck buddies, Cas wants to make sure Dean is okay. That is new for Dean, somebody who cares. But that's exactly the point, they are fuck buddies and fuck buddies don't care or do cuddling or similar. And yes, their sex was pretty intense, but Dean is not in need of aftercare. He is used to not getting it. So he just shakes his head, “Nope, I'm fine. But thanks for the offer.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes,” Dean laughs and throws a pillow after Cas, “And now get out before you become too lazy to get home.”  
  
Cas just gives him a smirk, gets dressed, while Dean remains on his bed.  
  
“I'll call or text you,” he says before he walks out and Dean just calls, “Same,” after him.  
  
He hears how the door closes, waits a few minutes and then moves to the bathroom to take a shower. When he get's up he winces. God he is going to be so sore tomorrow, but Dean doesn't mind. It will be a constant reminder of the awesome sex he just had, and is going to have again. Later he falls asleep pretty fast, relaxed, fucked, and content.  
  
Over the next few weeks it becomes a routine. They text each other during the day and meet in the evening to fuck and jesus it's good.  
  
Dean has an exhausting day, Cas fucks him to oblivion.  
  
Cas got trouble with his work (what ever he is doing, he doesn't tell Dean, but Dean doesn't mind), Dean rides him like there is no tomorrow.  
  
It started as a way to get rid of tension or stress caused by work, but soon they also meet for different reasons.  
  
There is nothing good on TV, hey why don't you come over and we fuck against my wall?  
  
It's Saturday, I'm bored and having no plans for tonight, can I show up in front of your door and interest you in a blow job?

I'm horny, but masturbation is lame, you free right now?  
  
Basically they are doing it almost every night and Dean is sore on a constant basis, but hell he loves it. Most of the time they are at Dean's place. First of all it's closer to Dean's work and second of all keeps things more distant. Dean still knows kind of  nothing about Cas, except for his name and where he lives. He doesn't take his time to inspect Cas' apartment. He is too busy dropping to his knees, face scratching over Cas' crotch, begging to suck him off. And it seems like Cas prefers it this way.  
  
People that say that fuck buddies are meant for college definitely never had sex with Cas. It's the best sex Dean has ever had and he doesn't have to ask Cas how his day went or cook dinner. They don't need to fight or to discuss what late night show they are going to watch. No relationship stress at all. It's just awesome and Dean feels great.  
  
Sam notices that too. They are finally meeting again for lunch. Dean orders his favourite bacon cheeseburger and shakes his head when Sam chooses salad. They talk about casualties, like Dean's work or how college is going for Sam. But at some point Sam changes the subject.  
  
“So who are you seeing and when am I going to meet them?”  
  
Dean almost chokes on his water, “What?”  
  
“Dean you are more relaxed than usual, I mean you didn't even complain a bit when the waitress said, they were out of pie. And Jo said you haven't been to the Roadhouse since you picked up this one guy. Oh and Charlie told her that you are constantly texting someone at work. Only conclusion, you have a boy- or girlfriend,” Sam explains with a shit eating grin, “So when am I going to meet them?” he adds.  
  
 _Two can play this game_ , Dean thinks.  
  
“I dunno, maybe after you introduced me to yours.”  
  
This time Sam is choking and Dean grins smug.  
  
“Oh come on, did you really believe I would buy your study group dates? First of all study groups don't meet that often. Second of all members of study groups don't call each other "honey". And third of all I asked Kevin and 90% of the time you told me you had to meet with your study group, there was no study group.”  
  
Sam looks like he is not sure if should feel guilty for not telling Dean, or embarrassed because Dean found it out so easily.  
  
“I was planning on telling you, I'm sorry,” he apologizes. He looks like a lost little puppy and Dean hates this look because he can't stay mad at his little brother when he looks like this.  
  
“It's okay, Sammy,” he assures his brother, “I would still like to meet him though.”  
  
“You will,” Sam promises, “I just need to talk with him first.”  
  
Dean nods happily and they continue their lunch. When they are finished and Dean is already walking home, Sam calls after him.  
  
“You didn't deny it by the way,” he yells and Dean is glad Sam can't see him blush. He takes out his phone and types.  
  
 **Siblings can be so annoying**

**I can be at your place in half an hour**   
  
  



	8. In which Cas breaks a few more rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So since I gotta work this afternoon/night I'm updating already, because I wouldn't make it tonight.  
> Now have some fluff :)

  
Cas doesn't like grocery shopping. He hates walking through the endless aisles looking for what he wants and never finding it. Standing in the line with noise children and tired parents isn't a joy either. An then there is always this one cashier, Ruby her name tag says, who creeps Cas out. Her smile seems fake, and more like she is planning to murder Cas than giving him his food.  
  
But it's necessary. Cas is always hungry as hell when he comes home from Dean's place. Maybe it would be easier if they just ate together, ordered some take out. But it would also make them more domestic and that's something Cas doesn't want. So he needs to go shopping.  
  
Today it's even worse because the moment he steps outside the shop the bottom of his bags rips and all his groceries fall on the street.  
  
“Fuck,” he curses pretty loud and tries to pick up what he can when a voice yells his name, “Hey, Cas!”  
  
Cas turns around and looks up, only to see a big, black car in front of him and it sits Dean.  
  
“Dean,” Cas asks confused, “What are you doing here?”  
  
“I'm on my way home from the garage. Do you need help?” Dean offers and Cas nods relieved.  
  
Dean gets out and helps Cas putting his groceries into Dean's car. They both sit silent in the car, listening to the classic rock the radio is playing, but it's a comfortable silence. That's the good thing about them, they don't need to talk. But at some point Cas starts talking, “Hey since we're gonna be at my place, do you wanna come in?”  
  
Dean lifts his eyebrows, but answers with a smirk, “Sure.”  
  
Usually Cas prefers things to happen at Dean's place. He just feels more vulnerable and open showing Dean his place. It is Cas home, has pictures of his friends, parts of his personality. It reveals things and Cas doesn't want to open up too much to Dean. But tonight he can make an exception. Only that he can't.  
  
When he reaches in his pocket to get his keys, they aren't there. Cas desperately goes through all the pockets he has, but apparently he has left his keys inside his apartment.  
  
“Seems like you need to call the locksmith,” Dean chuckles and Cas shoots him an annoyed glance what makes Dean just laugh more.  
  
His annoyance grows only when the locksmith tells him that he can first come on Monday morning.  
  
“It's Saturday, what am I supposed to do till Monday?” Cas yells in his phone.  
  
 _“Stay at a friend's place,”_ is the rude suggestion of the locksmith before he hangs up.  
  
Cas lets out a frustrated sigh and Dean gives him a sympathetic look.  
  
“Guess I'm not driving you home then?”  
  
“No, I'm going to stay at the place of my friend Balthazar,” Cas replies before he remembers that Balthazar isn't in town because he is visiting his family.  
  
“Ah shit, no. He isn't in town. Then please to Gabriel...no he is busy screwing his boyfriend this weekend,” Cas thinks out loud. He snorts at the thought. Gabriel seriously still tries to convince Balthazar and Cas that he is only having one-night stands. Only that his cover stories are horrible. But still Cas needs to stay somewhere, “I guess you can let me out at a motel.”  
  
“Yeah, uhm, no,” Dean says, “You can crash at my place.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Dude, I let you sleep at my place, I'm not going on our honeymoon with you,” Dean jokes and Cas lips twitch into something like a smile.  
  
“Thank you,” he is relieved that he doesn't have to stay at a motel.  
  
They drive to Dean's place, put Cas' groceries in the fridge and then both collapse on Dean's couch. Cas hasn't noticed how exhausted he is, this entire day was just so long. He has written the entire morning, got some lunch and then continued writing. Another great thing about this booty call relationship he has with Dean, it keeps him writing. It's like every time he fucks Dean a blast goes through his mind, setting new ideas free. Cas has no idea how Dean does this, but he could do this forever. But right now he is just too tired to have sex. He is not even in the mood to get a blow job by Dean, even though Dean is amazing at giving head. He just wants to lie on this couch, maybe eat something and do nothing.  
  
“Hey, is it okay if we...if we...” he has no idea how to say this, but Dean understands him right away.  
  
“If we don't have awesome, but exhausting sex?”  
  
Cas just nods and Dean gives him a smile, “Yeah sure. I'm also pretty tired and way too lazy right now. How about we order take out and watch some TV?”  
  
This idea sound marvellous, but on the other hand isn't that exactly what Cas tried to avoid?  
  
 _Oh screw it,_ he thinks. He is going to need to stay at Dean's place for at least 36 hours and he can't do that without eating something. And if they have sex later it's not so relationship like anymore, Cas tries to convince himself and nods.  
  
“Chinese or pizza,” Dean asks and Cas goes for pizza. Easier to eat, greasier and just perfect for a night on the couch.  
  
Dean dials a number and Cas and Dean order the cheesiest pizza there was.  
  
“So wanna watch some TV? There is a Star Wars marathon on tonight,” Dean suggests.  
  
“You like Star Wars?” Cas might not get a lot of references, but if there is one thing he gets, it's Star Wars. Gabriel has forced him to watch the movies. But it took just the first one and Cas was hooked. Like most of the Star Wars fans he denies the existence of Episode I-III though.  
  
“I'm a pretty big nerd, Cas. I mean, come on, I'm wearing batman boxer shorts in case you haven't noticed. Of course I love Star Wars. But only the original three movies, the new ones are horrible,” Dean answers and Cas blushes at the boxer short comment. He has to admit that he hadn't noticed Dean's batman boxer shorts, he had been too busy getting Dean out of them. Then he realizes that Dean is staring at him, waiting for him to say something.  
  
“Uhm...yeah,” Cas stutters, “Star Wars it is then.”  
  
“Awesome.”  
  
 _If I got a dollar every time Dean says awesome I would have more money than George Lucas himself,_ Cas thinks with a smirk. It is endearing though.  
  
Their pizza arrives halfway through the first movie, right when Luke, has to watch how Darth Vader kills Obi Wan. They play rock, scissors, paper to decide who has to get up and get the pizza and who can continue watching. To Cas luck, Dean loses and gets up muttering and Cas has to chuckle. He finds himself laughing quite often this night. Dean is funny and smart and Cas enjoys just hanging out with him. This should make all his alarms ring, but it doesn't. Maybe Cas simply shouldn't worry so much all the time. Dean said it himself, they're just hanging out, not planing their future life together. Also this is just an exception, it's not gonna become a thing. They will just continue coming, fucking and then leaving again. At least Cas plans on doing this.  
  
Time passes fast and Dean and Cas are shuffling closer to each other and when Cas dozes of his head is resting against Dean's shoulder.  
  
When Cas wakes up the next morning, two arms are slung around him, his limbs tangled with Dean's, on who's chest Cas' head is lying. In this position he can feel Dean's heartbeat, it slow and steady and calming. Cas smiles sleepily and snuggles again closer against Dean, before his eyes fly open and he is realizing what he is doing.  
  
Not just that he stayed at Dean's place without them having any sex, but they were or technically still are cuddling. This should not have happened and Cas considers jumping up, but then on the other hand he isn't a morning person. Dean is also very comfortable and Cas would love to sleep for another five or fifty minutes. And not for the first time on this weekend he thinks, _screw it._  
  
When he wakes up the second time he is no longer laying on top of Dean, just on the couch, a blanket pulled over his body. In the distance he hears Dean working in the kitchen. Cas gets up, blinking, still in the mood to sleep for another five hours. But before he can even leave the couch a hand with a cup full of coffee appears in front of him.  
  
“Coffee,” Dean asks with a smirk and hands Cas the cup, who accepts it eagerly.  
  
And the coffee tastes fucking delicious and Cas can't help but moan. Coffee is nectar and ambrosia for him, but whatever Dean just created is so so much better. Cas wonders if there's anything Dean isn't amazing at.  
  
“Geez, Cas,” Dean chuckles, “Should I be offended that you make more noises for this coffee than for me?”  
  
Cas almost spill his coffee, shaking with laughter.  
  
“You know wen can change this fact pretty fast,” Cas jokes after has calmed down.  
  
But Dean lets out an almost animalistic growl and then Cas is pressed against the back of the couch, two hungry lips sucking his cock. Dean wants to make Cas moan louder, wants to make him shiver in desperation and he does. In the end Cas is screaming, coming hard and the coffee, well the coffee stands forgotten on a table.  
  
That's how they spend the entire Sunday. Fucking on the couch, being lazy, fucking, eating, watching TV, fucking.  
  
And when Cas returns home on Monday morning he needs to come to the terms that what Dean and he have is no longer a booty call relationship. No it became something like friends with benefits. Cas should run by now, stop this entire thing. It should scare the shit out of him. But he doesn't and for the thousand time in the last 36 hours he thinks, _screw it._  
  



	9. In which Cas is a stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me some time to update, but school was so much this week and I'm also a really lazy person, but my friend Sarah kicked my ass, so I finally update. I also promise that the next update will be on Saturday.  
> Uhm..yeah, maybe I should warn you, this chapter is not really fluffy, or funny. I'm really, fucking sorry, you will get so much fluff, smut and humour again, that you will puke rainbows, I promise, please don't hate me.

  
After this weekend things change a bit. Instead of their usual routine, text, fuck, leave, Cas now shows up with Chinese take out in front of Dean's door. And Dean comes to Cas' place, a self made lasagne in his hands. Instead of leaving in the dead of the night they now fall asleep on top of each other. In the morning they wake up to blow jobs or coffee, ending in great shower sex.  
  
It's kind of nice, it's more relaxed, there is no rush, but also no pressure. Dean knows that Cas wants to keep this platonic and seems to be afraid of opening up too much. But they always manage to keep their talks casual and after some time Cas seems to relax more and more. They get to know each other on different levels than just the physical one and Dean starts liking Cas. He is smart, has a huge vocabulary, has a dry sense of humour, and except for Star Wars has a major lack of pop culture references. But on the other hand Cas has read every book there is. Often they start having hot angry sex because one of their discussions about an author or a book got heated. Dean will never understand how Cas prefers "Cat's Cradle" over "Slaughterhouse Five".  
  
Dean feels like they are leaving the stranger behind and are becoming something like friends. They also don't just text each other requesting sex, no sometimes Dean get's a bad pun, Cas gets a picture of apple pie.  
  
Dean has to smile when he feels the buzzing of his phone. He is just on his way home from the garage. Since it's the first warm and sunny day of spring he decides to give his baby a rest, and walk, enjoying the sun. He fumbles for his phone and smiles a bit wider when he sees Cas name on the screen. Dean reads the message.  
  
 **You look hot in your red leather jacket**

**Thanks**   
  


He replies before he notices that Cas has never seen him in his red leather jacket.  
  
His head jerks up, wondering if Cas is somewhere around him. His phone buzzes once again.  
  
 **Turn around**  
  
Dean does and right behind him on the other side of the street, stands Cas waving. Like always he is wearing his weird, a few sizes too big, trench coat. Usually people would look stupid wearing it. But Cas somehow manages to make it look good, like he is a famous model at the New York Fashion Week.  
  
Dean considers yelling something over the street, but it would be useless, the traffic would swallow the sound. So instead he texts.

**The trench coat suits you**

  
When Dean looks up again, Cas already crosses the road and then looks down for just a second because he got Dean's message. Just a second that's all it takes. The blink of an eye.  
  
For Dean though it feels like a millennium, like time has stopped, or just slowed down. He sees a short flash of Cas' blue eyes, sees how the smile on Cas' face fades. He hears the high squeal of the breaks. Hears the stopping wheels, the crash, the impact, and just for a moment the noises are unbearable loud.  
  
And then, then everything goes silent and Dean has this ringing in his ears, this static noise. The air is pressed out of his lungs, he wants to move, but just can't. His entire body is paralysed, the only thing moving is his blood rushing through his veins, his pulse beating in his ears.  
  
He notices that people are running towards the spot, sees that the driver is getting out of the car, but they are all just so slow, too slow. It's like watching a slow motion video, it's bizarre and surreal, like a weird dream, a nightmare that feels way too real.  
  
And finally, finally Dean manages to move. He makes an uncertain step, then two, then he starts running, pushing through the crowd. Desperately he tries to get to the middle.  
  
“Let me through,” he cries, his voice broken, his mind a blank space, he can't even form a prayer, “Please let me through, he is my friend.”  
  
And people step aside, letting him through and then, then Dean arrives in the middle of them. It's horrible. There are black trails from the breaks on the asphalt, which is covered in dirt and blood. It's everywhere, dark red liquid splashed over the entire street and there is another thing soaked in it. Cas' trench coat.  
  
Dean falls on his knees, his hands reaching out for Cas, who's eyes are closed and his body is covered in blood.  
  
Dean's hands are shaking, when he reaches out to cup Cas' jaw.  
  
He wants to scream, yell, whisper Cas' name, but he can't. He opens his mouth several times, but his voice fails.  
  
His brain somehow in unable to process things. Can't work it through, his mind can't just comprehend what is happening because obviously this can't be real. This can't be happening, it's absurd, not logical, not real. Inside his head everything is just a big blank space. It's a surprise that he manages to breathe in and out.  
  
His vision is blurred and obscure, Dean doesn't even notice he is crying.  
  
All he can do is hold Cas' broken body, trying to convince himself that this is not happening. He barely hears someone saying that they called an ambulance and this is the moment his instincts take over.  
  
He lays Cas' back to the ground, lifting up his chin and opening his mouth. Then he takes a deep breathe, leans over Cas, presses their lips together and breathes out. Then he lays his hands over Cas' chest and starts pushing it down a few times before he once again breathes inside Cas' mouth. He repeats this procedure, like he is in trance, he only notices halfway what he is doing.  
  
Every time his and Cas' mouths touch, it's torture. Instead of meeting heated passion and want, Dean just feels, cold, lifeless lips. And it would be killing him on the inside, if he were able to feel anything. But right now he is just numb inside. If he were able to feel anything in this moment, desperation and fear would break him. Like this he just remains focused on keeping Cas alive, working like a robotic machine, trying to save a life.  
  
It takes him a few seconds to realise that a warm, comforting hand is pressed on his shoulder. When he looks up, he stares into the eyes of an ambulance man.  
  
“We take it from here,” he tells Dean and Dean just nods, but remains right next to Cas.  
  
“He's the guy's friend,” some old lady informs the ambulance and the ambulance men just exchange looks.  
  
Dean blinks. When he opens his eyes, he finds himself in the waiting room of a hospital. Blurred and misty pictures flash through his head of the inside of the ambulance. Of two men taking care of Cas, of a strong pair of hands guiding him through the hospital.  
  
His brain starts working again and he tries to focus. He closes his eyes for a second and immediately sees Cas' body being hit by a car and thrown across the street. He rips his eyes open, panting for air, starting to panic.  
  
Where even is Cas, what have they done with him? Dean just can't remember, no matter how hard he tries. There was this one nurse, she spoke with him, he just doesn't know anymore what she said.  
  
“Hey, I brought you some water,” a voice says next to him and Dean jerks around, only to find said nurse in front of him. Thankfully he takes the water and drinks it.  
  
“I know how difficult this must be for you right now,” the nurse continues, “but I need to ask you a few questions about your friend. Just a few simple things, starting with his name,” she explains and Dean just nods.  
  
“His name is Cas...,” Dean begins, but then stops, because he has no fucking clue what Cas' last name is. He realizes that he basically knows nothing about him, he has no idea how old Cas is, if he has free health insurance, and if he has family. What if he dies and I can't even tell his family, or what if his family somehow shows up and I have to explain, how I knew him, it hits Dean.  
  
God, the man he just spent the last two months with, is nothing but a stranger to him. It surprises Dean, how much he is bothered by this. So he doesn't know Cas that much, why is that such a big deal all of a sudden. They are booty calls. Friends with benefits, if you want to be more specific. It's completely usual that they are strangers to each other, so why is Dean so annoyed by this?  
  
“You know, we can do this later as well,” the nurse brings him back to reality.  
  
“That would be nice,” he even manages to give her a weak smile and she smiles back and leaves him alone again.  
  
But before Dean can get back into his mind space, a doctor approaches him. Anxious, Dean jumps up.  
  
“How is he?” Dean asks.  
  
“The operation went well. A few bones are sprained, and he has a mild concussion, no head trauma,” the doctor informs him. Dean already wants to hug him in joy. But the other man continues speaking, “However, when he crashed against a guard rail some long, metal pieces pierced through is back. They hurt his spine and causing a major blood loss. This and the operation weakened him so much, we had to place him in an artificial coma. His results first have to get better, before we are able to wake him up again. But if you want, you can see him.”  
  
And for the second time, Dean's surrounding goes silent. The last words of the doctor are echoing in his head. Major blood loss, artificial coma, results.  
  
Somehow though he manages to follow the doctor to Cas' room. Cas lies on a bed, parts of his body wrapped in bandages. Hoses are sticking out of his body. A huge one in his mouth, keeping him breathing and right next to Cas is a monitor showing Cas.' heart beat.  
  
This is just too much for Dean and he collapses into the closest chair.  
 


	10. In which Dean dreams a little dream of Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm really sorry for all the unexpected angst in the last chapter, and as I said there is still gonna be some angst in this chapter.  
> Thanks, for still sticking with me, the fluff/smut will return, don't worry.

  
  
Hospitals are weird places. In one room an even year old girl gets told she beat cancer, jus a few meters away a woman loses her first born. One room is filled with joy and laughter, whoever passes the other room hears suffocated whines and a broken person.  
  
For Dean hospitals have always been the place of horror, the home of death and perdition. In vain spoken hopes and useless prayers cling to the shining, bright walls. The smell of blood, germicide and desperation lingers in the air, giving Dean the wish to throw up.  
  
The station he is in, is silent. Just the constant beeping of the machines that are keeping the patients alive, and the sound of his own breath fill the hallway. It drives him mad, his soft steps sounding like rockfalls, making him feel like and intruder.  
  
When he enters Cas' room, he just feels worse. Cas' usually golden skin is all pale. His sweet, pink lips are dry and chapped, and there are rings under his eyes, like someone has placed the Grand Canyon there.  
  
He looks worse than a few hours before and Dean already regrets that he left to take a shower and to get Cas' blood off his hands.  
  
But the few hours didn't just make Cas look worse, they also gave Dean some time to think. He went over this one moment again and again and it only led him to one conclusion. This is all his fault.  
  
Cas only got hit by the car because he had looked at his phone. And he had only looked at his phone because Dean had texted him. Ergo if Dean hadn't texted Cas, Cas wouldn't be in a freaking coma right now.  
  
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Cas,” he whispers and sits down right next to Cas' bed, “This is all my fault and I'm so god damn sorry.”  
  
Like a mantra he repeats it again and again, his arms wrapped around himself, his upper body moving back and forward. He tries to reassure himself, but he can't.  
  
"This is all my fault, all my fault,” he says for hours. He is not getting up, not changing his position. Around three in the morning he dozes off, his head resting on Cas' mattress. His mind is filled with monsters lurking in the dark, waiting to attack.  
  
   
  
 _Dean stands in front of the road again, surrounded by huge skyscrapers, throwing shadows._  
  
 _They make him feel like an ant. The street is empty now, not filled with life and noise, like it has been this morning. There is not one single person, except for Dean and another man, standing in the middle of the road._  
  
 _His back is turned towards Dean and it takes him a bit, until he recognises the dirty, wrecked trench coat and the black messy hair._  
  
 _“Cas,” his throat is dry, his voice broken._  
  
 _Cas turns around and Dean's breath stops._  
  
 _Cas' skin is pale, his cheeks hollow, lips pressed together to a small line. His eyes glow in rage, like electricity is running through them._  
  
 _"Hello Dean,” it sounds dreary and robotic. His face is without motion, only a hint of fury in it, but cold and stiff like marble. It seems like a statue sculpted in stone._  
  
 _Out of his back stick two metal bars connected with sheets, remains of the guardrail. It looks like mechanic wings, just scratched and broken, like someone cut through them with a knife. Cas' entire body looks, like some worked on it with a knife._  
  
 _“Look at me Dean,” he growls, his voice like thunder, “Look what you have done to me! How you ruined me!”_  
  
 _“Me?” Dean wants to ask, but fails._  
  
 _Dark clouds are covering the sky and wind starts to howl through the empty streets, echoing from the building. Cas' voice mixes with the sound._  
  
 _“You made me a monster, Dean,” he yells, furious like the storm, “ This is your work, and I will let justice prevail. I will hurt you like you hurt me!”_  
  
 _Lightnings are flashing through the sky. Their reflection making the glass front of the skyscrapers shatter. Rolling thunder joins the howls of the wind, creating a deafening growl._  
  
 _Dean wants to run, wants to hide, but the storm pushes him back, keeps him where he is, wind and rain punching his face. And while the wind holds him in his place, it carries Cas into the air. Like an angel of death, he is floating in the sky, a silver blade in his hand, his eyes blazing with blood thirst._  
  
 _“Say your prayers, Dean Winchester, though nobody will hear them,” he hisses and then shoots down towards Dean._  
  
   
  
Dean's eyes fly open.  
  
His breath is panicked, his heart beating too fast, his body frozen, unable to move. It takes a moment for his eyes to get adjusted to the bright light of the room. And even a bit longer to realize that a hand is caressing his hair, trying to soothe him. He also realizes that he is still in the hospital, half of his face pressed into Cas' bed sheets.  
  
Dean closes his eyes one more time, taking a deep breath and leaning into the touch of the hand in his hair. Then it hits him.  
  
Since his head is lying on Cas' bed and nobody else Dean knows is in this room the hand can only belong to Cas.  
  
Slowly Dean turns his head, scared what he might see. And he is right, the hand belongs to Cas, who is no longer in a coma. He still looks worn out, but his eyes are not filled with disgust and anger. They are glistening friendly and, if Dean didn't know better, he would say with affection.  
  
“Hello Dean,” Cas voice is low and soft, not the slightest hint of rage in it.  
  
“Cas,” it's a hoarse whisper, a plea, a begging for forgiveness, “You are awake.”  
  
Cas just nods, “They woke me up a couple of hours ago. They wanted to wake you ,too, but a nurse told them not to,” he explains and stops caressing Dean's hair. “You know, I get that you would really miss the awesome sex, if I had to be in a coma any longer. But that's no reason to camp in a hospital,” he adds and Dean is shocked.  
  
Cas can not seriously think Dean just spent the last hours in the hospital because they are fuck buddies.  
  
“I would never...how can you even think...Cas I was worried about you!” Dean sits up, indignant about what Cas just said, “ You were hit by a car! And you honestly believe that I would just sit here, worried if I ever had awesome sex again. I consider you a friend, despite the fact that I don't even know your last name. And hell, I'd care if you died,” because I like you, you matter to me and I god damn like you and all this is my fucking fault, he adds in his thoughts.  
  
“Dean,” Cas says deadpan, “I was making a joke.”  
  
“Oh,” is all Dean gets over his lips, feeling a bit relieved, but still, this is all his fault.  
  
“And stop blaming yourself. The car would have hit me anyway, With and without your text,” Cas adds.  
  
And holy shit can that guy now read thoughts, Dean wonders, his eyes opening wide.  
  
“You talk in your sleep,” Cas explains with a light chuckle, a tired smile on his lips, “It's kinda cute.”  
  
There is too much for Dean to process right now. Starting with the fact that Cas doesn't blame him, not even to mention that he just called Dean cute. It takes him a few moments, and Cas lets Dean take his time.  
  
“So you...you don't blame me,” he asks, still not quite sure.  
  
“No, I do not blame you, Dean. And you should not do it either,” Cas assures him, Dean just nods, “And maybe you should go home and get some sleep. I'm concerned about your well being as well,” Cas suggests. Dean thinks it's a brilliant idea. His neck hurts, his eyes are almost closed already and sleeping would be wonderful right now.  
  
“You're right, I should do this,” he tells Cas and gets up, “You call me?”  
  
“Sure, and oh Dean,” Dean turns around and sees Cas' hand in front of him, “My name is Novak.”  
  
Dean shakes Cas' hand with a smile on his lips, “Winches-....Wait Novak? Cas Novak? Like in Castiel Novak, the author?”  
  
“Guilty,” Cas shrugs with a smirk.  
  
“Wow, I'm screwing a celebrity,” Dean says without thinking. Cas burst out laughing while Dean blushes like someone set his cheeks on fire.  
  
“I'm actually quite disappointed you didn't notice earlier,” Cas tells him, still laughing, “I mean you have my entire book series on the shelf in your bedroom.”  
  



	11. In which Cas misses Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the updates are talking me so long, but there is a lot of school right now and I only managed to write this chapter today, because just like Cas, I'm chained to my bed. But don't worry I was not hit by a car, I'm just having a nasty cold, allowing me to write. And I still have so many ideas and chapters I want to write :)  
> Anyway enjoy the next chapter :)

  
Being chained to a hospital bed makes things complicated. For example writing is pretty complicated, when you don't have your laptop. It is also pretty complicated to ask your friends to bring it and other thinks like a toothbrush and some clothes if they don't know you were in a hospital in the first place. "And I had a car crash and was in a coma for 36 hours, sounds too dramatic," Cas thinks.  
  
Especially when your two annoying best friends turn into tow annoying mother hens.  
  
Gabriel, Cas might be able to understand, since they both are foster kids and Gabriel always felt like Cas' big brother. But Balthazar, who parties like there is no tomorrow. Who has a sick sense of humour (even worse than Gabriel's and that's almost impossible). And who is basically a five year old trapped in the body of a sexy British bastard, Cas' can't understand. But he is even worse than Gabriel.  
  
Balthazar asks Cas all five seconds, if he is okay, if he needs something. He brings Cas the most comfortable and most expensive sweatpants, he could get, instead of just Cas' old pair. He fluffs up Cas' pillows, brings him exotic tea, already complains about the hospital food. He also explains Cas that he already found a lawyer to sue the driver. That leads to an argument with Gabriel, who claims that he already knows a law student, who has good connections.  
  
They don't even give Cas the opportunity to say a single word.  
  
“My way would be cheaper!”  
  
“We are not hiring someone a twink, you fucked one time, recommended.”  
  
The last sentences was a mistake. Gabriel looks like he is going to punch Balthazar so hard, he is going to end up in the bed next to Cas.  
  
“Guys,” Cas tries to calm them.  
  
“Don't you dare call him that,” Gabriel hisses, his eyes filled with range.  
  
“Good, a boy toy, that blew you in the toilet of the Road House,” Balthazar apparently has a death wish.  
  
Gabriel might be as tall as a hobbit, but right now he looks like Sauron himself. His hands are already clutching the v-neck of Balthazar shirt and Cas has to yell, “Guys,” and they finally hear him, “Stop it! I don't want to sue the driver. It was a nice, young, blonde girl and she was really sorry. I'm fine and it was also part my fault. So I'm not gonna sue her.  
  
He doesn't mention that for a moment he felt like someone pushed him right in front of that car. He isn't even sure if it happened. His memories are still blurred.  
  
“Cassie, you were in a coma,” Balthazar wants to argue, but Cas id done with them.  
  
“And now I'm not anymore, so please shut the hell up. You are giving me a headache.”  
  
“Do you want more painkillers?”  
  
“No, Balthazar, All I want is to get some rest, so I can get out of here in a few days. And I can't do this, when you two idiots are bickering like a divorced couple, that has to pick a high school for their child!”  
  
Silence. Finally. Gabriel and Balthazar just stand there dumbstruck. Cas smiles content and before they can open their mouths again he says, “And please go now.”  
  
Wordless they leave his room. Cas just hopes Gabriel doesn't get the brilliant idea to call Michael and Anna. It's not that Cas doesn't like his foster sibling, but they are both always busy, and Cas doesn't want to see them right now. Same goes for Balthazar and Gabriel.  
  
He doesn't want to see anyone at all. He just wants to get home as soon as possible.  
  
Cas tries to read a book, but can't focus, watching TV doesn't work either. His head is just dizzy and there is this itching in his back, where the guardrail pierced through his skin. He feels weak and sleepy all the time and it annoys him. He hates being not able to do anything, laziness in a word, that doesn't exists in his vocabulary. He tries to write, but his headache becomes only worse and with a deep sigh he closes his laptop.  
  
He is tried, but can't sleep anyway. Flaws of having been in a coma, there is always this anxiety you won't wake up again. Cas just shakes his head.  
  
There is nothing, that makes the time pass. He misses something, but he is not quite sure. Maybe his own bed, or shower, his bookshelf. But somehow the thought of his home doesn't make him feel better. He just sees the empty kitchen, the bed, nobody slept in and the abandoned living room. It's odd somehow, Cas always used to love his apartment, still does and usually thinking of home always made him feel better. Now he just thinks of the static silence and the cold white walls, letting his flat seem even bigger, even emptier than it actually is.  
  
Sure sometimes his family or Gabriel and Balthazar come over. But Cas just doesn't find their company soothing right now. Like a few hours ago, he doesn't want to see anybody. But actually, he realizes, that's not quite the truth.  
  
“Don't dare going there,” he thinks and shakes his head once more and tries to ignore his thought. But there are some images flickering through his mind. The memory of a certain laughter rings in his ears and Cas tries his best to ignore this one feeling, this longing that grows in his chest.  
  
Of course, his brain doesn't let him succeed and it hits him, he fucking misses Dean. And if that doesn't scare the hell out of Cas. This is not supposed to happen, he is not supposed to miss Dean. Sure they eventually moved on to being friends, but he doesn't want to see his other friends. He just wants to see Dean, and that is a problem. It's a problem because it makes Dean special, it makes Dean different. And yes, Dean is different, but in a completely different way.  
  
Dean is supposed to make Cas feel ecstasy and have orgasms, not to calm him down and make him feel better, feel not so lonely.  
  
And Cas is supposed to enjoy casual sex and casual chats about casual things, not to feel this way. He is not supposed to...to...to like Dean. At least not like this. At least not, that he misses him. He doesn't want those feelings. Doesn't want to miss Dean, doesn't want a relationship, at least not after his last one, and he is sure neither wants Dean.  
  
There is only one reasonable explanation for his feelings, Cas figures. The mixture of left over adrenaline from the crash, the painkillers and his dizzy head, make him feel this way. It can't be anything else. It just has to be the combination of different hormones and maybe seeing Dean right now again, would be a y bad idea. Yet, Castiel finds himself taking his phone and typing.  
  
   
  
 **Hey, do you want to visit me in the hospital?**  
  
   
  
Usually it takes Dean not longer than five minutes to reply and Cas waits.  
  
And waits. And waits. After twenty minutes Dean still hasn't answered, and it makes Cas nervous.  
  
What if he noticed something, what if he just pretended to be my friend, he thinks, wait isn't that exactly what he wants? Dean just pretending to be his friend. Or Dean only seeing Cas as someone he knows, and sleeps with and who isn't halfway bad. But somehow it bothers Cas, if Dean had just lied about seeing Cas as his friend.  
  
Cas' mind is a mess and he blames it on the painkillers. He can't decide if it's good or bad, right or wrong and at some point his head just hurts.  
  
But then, someone knocks on his door and brings Cas back to reality. He looks up and the door opens, behind it, nobody else than Dean.  
  
He has a smile on his lips and a small package in his hands, his stunning eyes glistening with joy, when he enters Cas' room. Dean looks so different from the morning Cas woke up next to a sleeping Dean. There are no rings under his eyes, no frown darkening his face, no sign of guilt in it.  
  
“Hey, Cas,” he simply says, and sits down next to Cas, handing him the package, "I brought you pie."  
  
Cas blinks once, twice, a bit confused. The storm of thoughts in his mind has calmed and all he can do right now is smile back at Dean.  
  
"Hello Dean," Cas greets him and looks at the package with curiosity  
  
“Thanks,” he takes the pie happily and hungry. The pie smells delicious and Balthazar's complains about the hospital food are justified.  
  
Quickly he takes the first bite and oh my god, “This tastes amazing,” he almost moans and Dean chuckles.  
  
“Thanks,” he replies, “made it myself.”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
Dean just nods, while Cas can't stop shoving the pie in his mouth.  
  
“Oh, wait you, got there something,” Dean has to laugh again. He reaches out, swiping some pie from Cas' cheek and puts his fingers between his lips, licking them clean. And oh god, this should not be so hot. But everything in general that some how is connected to things going between those pretty, full, lips is hot. Also the short touch of Dean's fingers again Cas' skin felt like electroshocks were rushing through Cas' veins.  
  
And of course it doesn't let Cas unaffected, he already feels how is cock becomes hard. He just prays that Dean won't notice, but like all his prayers lately, nobody seems to hear them. It's like god left the building.  
  
“Do..do you need help with that, Cas,” Dean asks with a mischievous smirk on his lips and Cas damns the thin sheets of the hospital beds.  
  
He wants to open his mouth and tell Dean that he definitely doesn't need help, thank you very much. But Dean's hand is already under the blanket rubbing slow circles on the skin of Cas' stomach, moving more and more down.  
  
“Dean,” Cas hisses through his teeth, “this is a hospital. Anyone could come at any moment and see us.”  
  
“Oh and doesn't turn this you on, the danger of getting caught?” Dean whispers with a husky voice. His hand wraps around Cas' cock, causing him to jerk up. “Getting caught while doing something really, really dirty in such a clean place.”  
  
Dean starts stroking Cas,, his grip tight, moving up and down, doing a little twist at the head of Cas' dick.  
  
“Ughnf, Dean,” Cas can't help but groan, his fingers buried in the sheets, his eyes pressed together.  
  
“Also didn't you want some distraction,” Cas can literally hear the shit eating grin on Dean's face. His movements are getting faster and faster, his hand closing around Cas' cock harder.  
  
“And now imagine, what we could do if we weren't in a hospital. The things I could do to you, I'd right you. Hard and steady, just like in the night we met. Do you remember, the feeling of my tight heat around your throbbing dick? How I was grinding down on it and you were jerking up, meeting me with every thrust. How you made me scream, hitting my prostate every single time. Oh just imagine me on top of you, screaming, riding you like my life depended on it, oh god, Cas.”  
  
Cas can't help but thrust into Dean's fist, Dean's rough voice, turning him on, bringing him so close.  
  
“Yeah, that's the spirit,” Dean mumbles. His thumb is wiping over Cas' leaking cock, smearing precum all over it, “C'mon baby, fuck me hard.”  
  
And Dean's dirty talk mixed with an endearment sends Cas over the edge. With a muffled moan he comes, hot cum splashing over Dean's hand.  
  
Cas is panting hard, when he opens his eyes, staring right into Dean's green eyes.  
  
“Can't wait to get out of here and inside of you,” he mutters not aware of what he just said. The pleasure has taken over his brain  
  
“Me neither,” Dean replies and pulls his hand out of Cas' pants. It's covered in cum and once again Dean lifts his hand and presses it between his lips, licking it clean.  
  
Cas is glad he is in an hospital, because he is pretty sure that the Dean is killing him right now.  
  
   
  
 


	12. In which Dean likes cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took me some time, school was a bitch this week. Anyway enjoy the new chapter :)

  
It is Thursday night and Dean is bored. Usually he would hang out with Charlie and play their favourite zombie video game “Croatoan”. But Charlie is busy spending the night with Jo, so Dean can't hang out with one of his best friends  
  
Sam is not available either, he spends the night with his boyfriend, that Dean still hasn't met, but Sam promised he will soon  
  
He could head over to Bobby's and watch a game, drink a beer. But on the other hand Crowley is still trying to prove that he can cook, which he can't.  
  
Everybody is with their girlfriend or boyfriend, only Dean sits alone at home. And the only person close to being his boyfriend is in the hospital. Visiting hours are long over and Dean doesn't want Cas to get the wrong impression if he shows up again. Something Dean has done several times over the past weeks.  
  
But thinking about Cas gives Dean an idea. He walks into in his bedroom, to his bookshelf, and pulls out a big book with the title Lazarus Rising.  
  
With a smile on his lips, Dean sits down and opens the first page and there right above the short summary of the plot, is a picture of Cas. Dean wonders how he didn't notice earlier, especially since he loves the books.  
  
   
  
They are about the angel Nathaniel, a good solider of heaven and about the demon war. The demons are trying to rise Lucifer, which the angels have to prohibit under all costs. Only at one point Nathaniel meets the demon Maggie, who convinces him that the angels are not always the good guys. He starts falling in love with her and leaves heaven.  
  
Soon afterwards, a civil war starts in heaven, between angels wanting to change the system of heaven and those, who want it to remain the same. Everybody tries to get Nathaniel on their side, since he is one of heaven's best fighters. But Nathaniel doesn't choose a side. He disappears with Maggie, leaving a lot of his friends behind  
  
In the last book _Goodbye stranger_ it turns out that Maggie just used him to rise Lucifer. She leaves Nathaniel's shatters ruins at the gates of hell. Meanwhile, the conservative angels win the civil war. They find Nathaniel and transform him into a cold, heartless, killing machine that obeys their orders. That's where the last book ends.  
  
   
  
Just like other fans of the series Dean can't wait for the next one, he hopes Nathaniel gets his happy ending.  
  
Dean is still a bit in awe that Cas has written these books since they have won several prizes and are top ten bestsellers. And Dean always expected the author to be some rich douchebag, wearing sunglasses inside, enjoy the love of his fans way too much. But Cas is a humble guy. Sure a bit cocky from time to time, especially in bed, but Dean likes it when Cas takes control. Holds him down or shoves him against a wall, sucking hickeys into Dean's flesh and thrusting inside his body.  
  
Eventually Dean starts to read the first pages. Those turns into the first chapter and Dean ends up reading half the book when his doorbell rings.  
  
Wondering who it could be and still with the book in his hands, he shuffles to the door, only to gasp like an idiot when he opens it.  
  
“Hello Dean.”  
  
Dean blinks in confusion and then hurries to hide the book behind his back.  
  
“Uhm...hi Cas,” he stutters, “I didn't know you were already out of the hospital.”  
  
“They let me go this morning, and I thought I come over and thank you for the pie,” Cas explains. He gives Dean a small box, “It's cake though, the bakery didn't have any pie left, I hope that's okay.”  
  
A bit dumbstruck Dean takes the box and nods, “Sure, thanks” he says and he means it. Just because he loves pie, doesn't mean he can't appreciate a delicious cake.  
  
He steps aside to let Cas come in and then closes the door behind Cas.  
  
“Oh, I see you've been reading my books again,” Cas points out, when he spots the book in Dean's hand and Dean can't help but blush.  
  
“I like the story,” he admits, not daring to look at Cas and moves into his kitchen to put the cake into his fridge. Cas follows him.  
  
“Thanks, I guess,” he hears Cas' deep voice close behind him. “And while we are busy thanking each other,” Cas continues. And suddenly two strong hands grip Dean's hips and turn him around, pressing him again the kitchen counter, “ I never really thanked you for that handjob,” Cas adds. He drops to his knees, his face nuzzling Dean's crotch.  
  
“Geez, Cas, you..you don't ha-”  
  
“Shut up, Dean,” Cas orders with a deep growl sending chills down Dean's spine, straight into his already hardening dick. Impatiently Cas tugs down Dean's jeans and his boxer shorts as well, staring hungrily at Dean exposed genitals.  
  
With anticipation Cas licks his lips, “God, I missed your cock,” he says. Without warning wraps his lips around Dean, coaxing a surprised moan out of him.  
  
Dean's hands dig into the kitchen counter. His knuckles are turning white when Cas starts moving his mouth up and down until his nose touches Dean's torso. Cas being able to take Dean completely always impressed Dean and it's also such a fucking turn on Dean can't help but whine.  
  
Occasionally Cas stops bobbing up and down. He just takes the head of Dean's cock into his mouth, licking the precum and sucking like his life depends on it. Then he starts moving his hot lips up and down Dean's cock again, but always returning to stimulate the sensitive head again. It makes Dean scream every time Cas swirls his tongue over the swollen, almost purple part.  
  
Dean has to bury his hands in Cas' black hair, fingers scratching over Cas' scalp, messing his hair up even worse.  
  
His hips buckles and he tries his best not to thrust in the wet, heat of Cas mouth. He fails, but Cas hands are still pinning him against the counter making it impossible for Dean to move.  
  
“Shit, Cas, gonna come,” he warns Cas, but Cas just keeps moving and even slides his tongue over Dean's balls and Dean comes. Cas just continues sucking, swallowing every drop of Dean's cum. Dean just makes an embarrassing high pitched squeal.  
  
When he is done swallowing, Cas pulls Dean's pants up, gets up and licks the last drop of cum from his lips, “Enjoy your cake, Dean.”  
  
“You're not staying,” Dean tries to hide his disappointment, but fails. He has hoped Cas would stay and they could go for another round, bringing them both the pleasure of an orgasm.  
  
“No, I'm tired,” Cas explains, and Dean realizes that Cas might not look beaten up anymore, but there are still rings under his eyes.  
  
“Oh,” he says, biting his lip, wanting to say, you could sleep here.  
  
“See you, Dean,” Cas says with a short smile on his lips, as he leaves Dean in kitchen and walks towards the door.  
  
“Yeah, I'll...I'll text you,” Dean calls after him, not able to move, because his legs are still shaking a bit.  
  
“I'm sure you will,” Cas replies and then he is gone.  
  
Dean can't help but feel a certain sadness, since this is kinda a degeneration of their newly formed friendship. But Dean can understand Cas. If he had just spent three weeks in a hospital, he would prefer sleeping in his own bed as well.  
  
With a deep sigh, Dean takes his book, walks into his room and falls onto his bed. Still he would have liked having Cas inside of him again. His eyes wander for a short second to his nightstand. But he drops the idea, thinking of how much Cas would love to open him up again. Only to pound into his tight ass, which hasn't been fucked for weeks. Yeah, Dean is definitely not using the toys in his nightstand tonight.  
  
Instead he takes the book and keeps reading. After a few hours he dozes off, having a restless sleep, and nightmares. He dreams about armies of angels, led by Cas, those mechanic, broken wings sticking out of his back again.  
  



	13. In which Cas' life is a chick flick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I have some announcements to make:
> 
> 1) Insanityscrime is such a kind sweetie and offered beta reading, for which I'm really thankfull :) So from now on, no horrible grammar or spelling mistakes anymore :)
> 
> 2) I'm gonna fly to Tenerife for two weeks in about five hours and as much as I love this story (and you guys of course, did I tell you you're awesome), I'm definitely not going to type about two thousand words on my phone, so I wont be able to update. But I've got two note books and a lot of pens, I'm gonna write a lot and hurry to type it, as soon as I'm back :)
> 
> 3) Here is the new chapter, enjoy :)

  
Cas stares into a field of blue ties inside his closet. Somehow they all look the same, and Cas wonders why he bought so many of them in the first place. With a deep sigh, he grabs a random one, and unwillingly gets dressed. The freshly healed injuries on his back pinch; Castiel hisses in pain as he puts on his white button-down shirt.Cas had promised Gabriel he'd look his best, and Gabriel's pleas are still echoing in his head.  
  
 _“Please Cassie, he wants to meet my family. You're the closest thing to family I have.”_  
“Why don't you ask Balthazar?”  
 _“We still don't talk. And also I really want you to finally meet him.”_  
“It's serious isn't it?”  
 _“Very.”_  
  
Gabriel's voice had sounded honest and even a bit afraid, Cas agreed to come and to look good.  
  
But now he regrets it. It's Saturday, and while any other weekend he'd be buried balls deep inside Dean, he now has dinner with one of Gabriel's hook-ups. The last serious one, Nick, had been a catastrophe. He actually inspired Cas' character Lucifer. Hopefully this guy is not a younger, newer version of Gabriel's ex.  
  
Cas considers calling Gabriel for a moment, telling him he can't make it, but Gabriel needs him. Cas owes him. Actually, Cas wants to smack himself for even thinking like that. He should consider himself lucky that Gabriel still wants to talk to him, especially after what happened with Meg. Abandoning his friends just because he thought he had been in love was one of the most stupid things Cas had ever done.  
  
Thinking about Meg, about love, makes him frown and shake his head. He had been so stupid, feels the regret aching in his chest, but in the end that's what love does to people, it short-circuit their brains. He decides to do anything to give Gabriel's boyfriend the best impression possible.  
It crosses his mind that he should probably text Dean that they can't meet tonight.

**I won't make it tonight**

  
**Me neither**  
  
Cas squints for a moment, wondering what Dean could be doing tonight instead. Strangely enough, it's jealousy that smacks him across the face, and it's ridiculous. Dean just said that he has no time, he can't make it either, which can mean a lot. Maybe he still has to work, maybe it's a family thing. Dean has never mentioned a boyfriend or girlfriend and Cas doubts he has one. But Dean could still go on a date, can't he? But even if he was seeing someone, why would it bother Cas? He and Dean are friends. Friends who are fucking each other. Nothing more.  
  
This feeling makes Cas antsy; his breath hitches and his palms get sweaty. This is not supposed to happen. Liking Dean, okay. Becoming friends with Dean, okay, but getting jealous? Definitely not okay.  
  
Cas should have noticed that something was going wrong when he started to miss Dean. Now Cas is about to freak out.  
  
Get it together, he tells himself, he has time to worry about Dean some other time. Now he has to support Gabriel.  
  
On his way to the restaurant, he tries to push the thought of Dean away, but the constant flashes of his face, and stupidly enough, Meg's face, keep him close. Somehow, he connected Dean with Meg. He didn't want to fall for Meg. He did. He didn't plan on getting jealous over Dean. He neglected his friendships while he was with Meg, and today he considered doing it again, just for sex. It scares Cas, how easily it is to come back to old behaviour.  
  
He is not interested in a relationship with Dean, he is not interested in a relationship with Dean, he is not interested in a relationship with Dean, he tells himself again and again, making it his mantra.  
  
He is glad that he decided to take a cab because, as distracted as he is right now, he probably would have ended up in another car crash if he had been driving  
By the time he arrived at the restaurant, he had managed not to think about Dean anymore, and even if he hadn't, the sight of the place Gabriel chose would have knocked the thought of Dean straight away.  
  
It's a bright, shining building, with three huge stars above the entrance. Cas can't help but mutter, “What a fancy ass place.”  
Even though he makes a lot of money with his books, he prefers a simple life. Having dinner at such an extravagant restaurant is something he has never really enjoyed. Cas would be happy with a good cheeseburger and some fries.  
  
But tonight is not about him being happy. It's about Gabriel being happy.  
  
The inside the restaurant is even fancier. There are red coloured walls, matching the parquet floor, and round tables filled with more silverware Cas had ever seen in all his life. He looks around, trying to find Gabriel and his boyfriend. He doesn't, so he walks over to the reception to ask about Gabriel's reservation. Still busy trying to see Gabriel, Cas doesn't look ahead and promptly walks into someone. Of course, clumsy as he is, Cas immediately loses his balance and curses a short, “Shit,” before two strong hands grab him and hold him up. Cas' back aches for a moment, but thankfully he holds onto the stranger's arms.  
  
“Thanks,” he says, when his fingers bump against soft leather and a familiar scent hits him.  
  
“No problem, Cas,” an even more familiar voice says and Cas head shoots up, looking directly into Dean's face, an amused smirk on his lips.  
  
“Dean,” Cas asks astonished, “What are you doing here?”  
  
But before Dean can even answer Cas remembers that Dean is probably here on a date. There is an ugly feeling deep down in his pit, when he realises that this date must be important for Dean, or he would probably not be in such a high-class restaurant.  
  
“I'm meeting someone important,” Dean confirms Cas fear, “You?”  
  
“Me too,” Cas replies, and technically it's not a lie. Gabriel and his boyfriend are important.  
  
For a few seconds something is flickering in Dean's eyes, something Cas can't quite read, but then it is already replaced with the usual sparks of humour that give his eyes this special shine.  
  
“Anyway, I was about to ask about his reservation, because he isn't here yet,” Cas doesn't mention that Gabriel is his brother, or that his boyfriend will be there too, with purpose.  
  
Why the hell is he doing this? It's as if his mantra has been forgotten.  
  
“Yeah, me too, actually,” Dean nods and points towards the reception, “Shall we?”  
  
Cas just follows him and they both tell the waitress their names.  
  
“Okay, you Mr. Winchester are at table 15 and you Mr. Novak,” she takes a few seconds to check the register and Dean already walks towards his table, giving Cas a little wave, “You are at table 15 as well.”  
  
What? How can they both be at table 15? Why are Dean and him at the same table? Questions are rushing through Cas mind and a glance at Dean shows him, that Dean doesn't feel any different.  
  
Wait, when he and Dean are at the same table does that...does that mean...  
  
“Are you dating my brother?” they both ask each other at the same time, “Wait what?”  
  
Cas' confusion just grows, and he doesn't know what he's pissed about more: that Dean is dating Gabriel, or that Dean has been cheating on Gabriel with him. And why did he ask Cas if he was dating Dean's brother? This all makes no sense.  
  
“Dean!”  
  
“Cassie!”  
  
Dean and Cas both turn around and Cas spots Gabriel, who has called him, next to a really tall man with even longer hair than Gabriel.  
  
But who is this man? Cas wonders, and why is his brother standing right next to this giant, when Dean is right here.  
  
He glances over at Dean, who seems to know the freakishly tall man.  
  
Wait is this some sort of polygamous relationship? Is that the reason Gabriel was so nervous? Because he wanted to introduce Cas not just to one, but to two boyfriends? Is that why Dean has been sleeping with him, even though he is dating Gabriel?  
  
Cas head is starting to hurt.  
  
By now Gabriel and his other boyfriend have reached Cas and Dean. There is a nervous smile on Gabriel's lips when he pulls Cas in for a hug.  
  
“This... uhm... this is Sam. My boyfriend,” Gabriel says and points at Sam, who reaches out to shake hands with Cas, who, still too confused to react, totally misses Sam's outstretched hand.  
  
Sam frowns for a second before he seems to realise something.  
  
“Oh, and this is my brother, Dean,” he says in a deep voice, pointing to Dean whose eyes find Cas'.  
  
Cas really has to focus not to burst out in hysterical laughter. Dean seems to have a similar problem.  
  
Now Sam and Gabriel are the confused ones, not understanding the rude behaviour of their brothers.  
  
“And Dean, this is Gabriel, my boyfriend,” Sam adds after a few seconds, and Dean and Cas finally manage to get it together.  
  
“Hi Gabriel, it's nice to meet you,” Dean finally says with a smile, and then turns to Cas, “And you too...Ca...Cas?”  
  
“Castiel,” Cas tells Dean, shooting him a glance, swearing he will pay Dean back. But on the other hand, now they don't have to answer the awkward question how they met. Maybe Dean didn't just mean to tease him, he was being clever.  
  
They finally walk to their table, and from that moment on, the evening goes smoothly. Sam is a really intelligent, funny, and interesting person. Quite the opposite of Dean. Not that Dean isn't funny, intelligent, and interesting, Cas actually thinks those are a few of his best qualities, but just in a different way.  
  
Gabriel and Dean seem to get along quite well, too, even though Dean would appear overprotective at times, which caused Gabriel to get nervous.  
  
In the end Cas even enjoys the food, though he is not quite sure what silverware is for which dish, exactly. All the jealousy is gone, and once again he notices how much he enjoys Dean's presence. Cas also isn't worried about the jealousy anymore, he probably just overreacted. His feelings for Dean are just platonic, maybe a bit lust driven when it comes to the sex, but nothing serious.  
  
They leave the restaurant late, and before they separate, Cas can't help but ask, “Why exactly did you choose such an expensive restaurant, Gabriel?”  
  
“Oh, I just wanted to leave a good impression on Dean,” he explains.  
  
“Aww, that's sweet,” Sam grabs Gabriel's hand and presses a short kiss against his cheek, making a fierce blush spread over Gabriel's cheeks.  
  
“It is,” Dean chuckles, “But you know, a good cheeseburger and some fries would have sealed the deal as well.”  
  
And when Cas looks at Dean and Dean catches his glance, a warm fluttery feeling spreads through Cas' body.


	14. In which Dean spills his guts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back from the island with a new chapter, which was a bitch to write  
> WARNING: This chapter features memories of an abusive relationship and dubcon  
> I never planned to write that much angst and I rewrote this chapter about 4 times, it's dark but it's also important for the plot and for character development. And as always I promise that fluff and smut will return.  
> Now enjoy the new chapter, I'm off to enjoy Age of Ultron ;)

  
Gabriel and Sam decide to share a cab since they are going to the same place anyway. As they both disappear into the night, Dean glances at Cas and can't help but chuckle while waiting for the next cab. Baby had to stay home tonight.  
  
“What?” Cas asks, one eyebrow lifted, trying his best not to grin.  
  
“Nothing,” but Dean just can't hold back his laughter, “Just thinking about you dating my brother and me dating yours.”  
  
Meeting each other accidentally and thinking the other one is their brother's date had been a scene right out of a chick flick,  Dean thinks, laughing harder as Cas joins him.  
  
“It would be absurd,” Cas says, shaking with deep laughter as well. Dean could listen to the sound forever.  
  
And yes, it would be. Sure Gabriel seems to be nice, but he is this kind of person you can only bear in small doses. Dean could never date him, but Gabriel really seems to care about Sam, and that's what counts in the end. Dean shakes his head. No, he and Gabriel would clearly not be a match made in heaven.  
  
Sam and Cas on the other hand would work out quite well, Dean believes. They are both very intelligent, huge book nerds, and share a love for healthy food. That's probably why the thought that Cas and his brother might be dating had not seemed so absurd for Dean. Sure he and Cas kinda have this chemistry, but Sam and Cas would just fit very well together. The thought gives Dean a short sting, which is ridiculous. Sam does not see Cas that way.  
  
The honk of the cab interrupts his thoughts.  
  
“Do you want to share a cab too?” Cas asks, holding the car's door open.  
  
Actually sharing a cab would be pretty useless because they both live about 30 minutes away from each other in totally different parts of the city. Dean frowns and is about to tell Cas exactly how stupid it would be, but then he has an idea.  
  
“Since you live at the exact opposite of the city sharing a car would be pretty dumb,” something like disappointment flickers over Cas' face, so Dean hurries to add, “But you could always crash at my place.”  
  
 _Very smooth Winchester,_ he congratulates himself when a smile creeps over Cas' lips and Cas replies, “I would like that.”  
  
And yes, Dean would like that very much too. Not that he is hoping to get laid, except that he totally does hope to get laid. He and Cas hadn't had sex since the accident, (unless you count the surprise cake blow job in Dean's kitchen,) and Dean could really use sex. Get rid of some stress: the original purpose of their booty call, now friends with benefits, arrangement.  
  
Of course, if Cas is not up for it and wants to sleep since it was a long night, Dean could totally understand it.  
  
But the moment the taxi driver starts driving, two hot lips are pressed against Dean's throat and hands are stroking up and down his thighs. A low whimper escapes him, similar to the whimper Dean makes when Cas pushes Dean through the door into his apartment a couple of minutes later.  
  
Dean yanks himself out of his shirt and gets out of his pants while Cas sucks love bites into his collar. Dean is now only in his underwear. Cas just lost his coat, and Dean already wants to get Cas naked as well, but before he can do anything he is softly pushed back and falls onto his bed. Cas' face is pressed against his crotch, his nose nudging against Dean's pelvis.  
  
“Can't wait to finally be inside you again,” Cas mumbles and slowly pulls down Dean's boxer short, exposing Dean's skin inch by inch by inch, “Must be so tight.”  
  
Cas’ tongue trails over one of Dean's hipbones making him shiver with want and anticipation, because yes, he is going to be tight. He hasn't used his toys, or even his fingers for a month- He’d just been waiting for this: the moment when he could finally feel Cas inside him again. And the waiting was really hard because Dean- and he is not ashamed to admit it- is a needy bottom. He’s topped a few times, but he definitely enjoys being a bottom more. A bottom that needs to get fucked ASAP.  
  
“Stop teasing and fuck me already,” Dean mutters, and thank God, Cas rips his boxers off and finally gets out of his own clothes. Dean needs Cas inside like yesterday. “Hurry up.”  
  
Cas shoots him a glance with a mixture of annoyance and amusement, but then asks, “Lube?”  
  
Usually Dean puts lube and condoms out on the top of the nightstand, but since he didn't know he would run into Cas tonight and finally have sex again, he didn't put them out.  
  
“Top drawer,” is all he manages to reply and Cas gets up to get them.  
  
Dean hears the drawer being opened, followed by a surprised gasp.  
  
“Cas?” he asks, confused.  
  
He pushes himself up on his elbows and tilts his head slowly to get a look at Cas- then he remembers what exactly he keeps in that drawer and jumps up. Dean keeps condoms and lube in the top drawer because he also keeps a fuck load of-...  
  
“Toys,” is all Cas says.  
  
Dean feels like someone set his cheeks on fire. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. A sudden feeling of anxiety overcomes him. Cas probably will be disgusted, or laugh at him. Dean expects Cas to turn around, expects to see disdain in his eyes and hear this cold, hollow laugh that already rings in his ears.  
  
Cas is not him, Cas is not him, Dean tries to reassure himself, and gives his best to focus on Cas and not on him.  
  
Cas examines Dean's drawer with something like curiosity and Dean waits for the humiliation, for the harsh words, words of hatred, words like he had used.  
  
“I knew you were kinky,” Cas finally says, and pulls out a pair of handcuffs, ”But this kinky?”  
  
To Dean's surprise there is a smile on Cas' lips, it's not evil or fake, maybe a bit teasing, but apart from that it's just Cas' simple smile.  
  
Cas just keeps digging through Dean's toys. There are several butt plugs, anal beads, vibrators with different settings, dildos in various colours and sizes, even a cock ring, and deep, deep, down inside is a purple monster dildo, Dean had only used once ages ago.  
  
Dean swallows hard and waits for Cas to finally snap, but he doesn't. Dean would prefer if they just closed the drawer and returned to the having sex part and Cas forgetting all about Dean's little secrets. He can't lose Cas because of them, he just can't. And not just because the sex is amazing, but also because Dean can't lose Cas as a friend.  
  
  
Despite his fear, Dean opens his mouth not really realising what he is saying and his own words surprise him.  
  
“Do you- Do you want to use them?” he stutters.  
  
Cas turns around, a puzzled expression all over his face. That's it. Now he is gonna snap. Dean is sure. Also what was he thinking? Dean definitely doesn't want anyone to use his toys.  
  
His anxiety grows, spreads through his body like a cancer, from his stomach, reaching all the way up his spine, invading his lungs, making it almost impossible for Dean to breathe.  
  
Jittery, he waits for Cas' response, for Cas to end it all. Dean is scared, actually terrified. There’s a reason why he keeps his toys a secret. There’s a reason why his chest is aching with fear and pain. But there is also something else, deep inside. It’s covered up by Dean's panic, but it's there: a weak, buzzing, desire.  
  
Yes, he loves sex, but only without commitment. Yes, he loves his toys, but they are not meant to be used with others, not anymore; however, if Dean were not so afraid of Cas' reaction, he would be able to admit that he very much likes the thought of Cas fucking him with his toys. The idea is actually pretty hot, and if all his panic were gone, Dean would be glowing with want, craving the image of Cas slowly turning Dean into an overstimulated mess. But right now Dean's mind keeps him away from that fantasy, covering his desires with darkness and anguish.  
  
Nervously Dean tries to hold Cas' stare, waiting for his friend to say something, expecting the worst.  
  
“You would let me?” there is astonishment and awe in Cas' voice. His eyes are wide and soft.  
  
Dean shouldn’t be surprised to find mild kindness in Cas' face instead of expected rancour and loathing, but if you get screwed over once, you expect everybody to screw you over again, and Dean occasionally having nightmares about a raging Cas with mechanical wings doesn't help either.  
  
Dean should use this chance to tell Cas no, that he doesn't want to. Not that he truly doesn't want to, because a part of Dean really would like to, but because he can't. He just can't do this, he really can't.  
  
Still he replies, “If you want to.”

_You should know that I don't like to hear the word “no.”_

Dean's entire body jerks, the voice loud and clear in his mind. It doesn't even seem like a memory anymore. It’s like the voice is real, the words spoken aloud, echoing from the white walls of Dean's room. He’d always found comfort in the simplicity of his bedroom, the white, soft colours used to calm him down, keep him away from his memories. Now the walls look like movie theaters screens, projecting the memories he tried to escape from.  
  
“Okay,” one simple words drives Dean focus back to Cas.  
  
He tenses up even more, squints his eyes for a second, and hears how Cas closes the drawer. When Dean opens his eyes again, he expects to see a toy in Cas' hand, or on the bed, but both Cas' hand and the bed are empty.  
  
“Are… aren't you gonna use them?” he stutters confused, not sure if he should feel relieved or even more scared.  
  
“No, I won't.”  
  
“Don't you want to,” Dean's voice is shaky, so he was right. Cas is disgusted, by the toys, by the idea, by Dean.  
  
“No, I would love to use them,” Cas admits, a smack of confusion in his words, caused by the unsteadiness of Dean's, “but not tonight.”  
  
Now Dean is completely lost. There is too much for his brain to process. Cas is not disgusted and would love to use the toys, but not tonight. Is that some sadistic game he is playing, making Dean wait for it, letting his fear grow? Or is he just pretending not to be grossed out by Dean?  
  
Dean's chaotic thoughts are luckily noticed by Cas, so he starts to explain.  
  
“First of all, I think we should talk about using them before doing it. Establish rules, discuss comfort zones, set boundaries. Also, I assume you have your reasons, why you kept this a secret and did not suggest using them earlier, and I am not gonna fuck you with them, as long as I don't know the reason. It is important that you trust me with them and are relaxed. Right now you look as relaxed as Bambi, when his mother was shot,” Cas makes a short break to let Dean process this all.  
  
“And second of all,” he continues, “I've been waiting to sleep with you for weeks, to feel you, to be inside of you. But considering the state you are in, I suggest we postpone this. You should get some sleep and then we can talk about this tomorrow.”  
  
To say that Dean is really glad about the thought of getting some rest would be an understatement. There is so much new information for his brain to work through, so many thoughts, emotions, possibilities. Also it really has been a long night, and Dean just realises how tired he is. Slowly, he nods, and lets Cas guide him into his bed.  
  
He barely notices that there is a blanket pulled over him and an arm wrapped around him, he is already half asleep.  
  
 _This time Dean and mechanic wings!Cas are not alone on the road. There is somebody standing to Dean's right side, but he doesn't dare to turn around, he doesn't need to. He knows exactly who is standing there, and for the first time, Dean is not afraid of Cas in his dreams. Also for the first time, there is no fury in Cas' face, it's just a deep frown. Dean's heart is pounding, sweat is running down his forehead and his limbs are paralysed._  
  
 _“Oh, Dean-o, I thought I taught you better manners,” the person to the his right says with fake disappointment, “Didn't I always tell you to LOOK AT ME?”_  
  
 _The last words are hissed out, sounding more like a command, not like a question and Dean does. He slowly turns around and looks at him. His eyes are in a demonic black, still the same evil grin on his face, a knife swirling in his hands._  
  
 _“Looks like I've got to punish you,” there is so much joy in the demon's words, so much anticipation glowing in his dark eyes, as he walks towards Dean._  
  
 _Dean knows this is it, he will die. Painfully. It is not like when mechanic wings!Cas shoots down at him, a long, sword-like blade in his hands, no, Dean always wakes up before the blade pierces through him. This time he knows he won't wake up. The demon will keep him in this nightmare._  
  
  
 _A whimper escapes his throat. Wake up, Dean, wake up, Dean, he tells himself. But of course it doesn't work. The demon is only inches away from him now, an evil grin on his lips._  
  
 _“Oh I will love destroying you, Dean,” he smiles, “You deserve to be punished.”_  
  
 _This is worse than all his other nightmares. They weren’t so real. Dean knows in real life Cas would never hurt him, and that this dream version is only Dean's subconscious trying to work through the guilt Dean still feels because of Cas' accident._  
  
 _But this, this could be reality, this used to be reality for Dean and there is no escape. Dean shuts his eyes, waiting for the pain, for the torture, for his end._  
  
 _“Stay away from him,” a thunder-like growl has Dean's eyes snap open again, seeking for his saviour._  
  
 _It's Cas. Only that his broken mechanic wings are not longer there. Instead a beautiful pair of black wings comes out of Cas' shoulders, and a bright glow surrounds him. The silver angel blade that is usually meant for Dean, is no pointed towards the demon._  
  
 _“And why would I, angel?” the demon asks mocking._  
  
 _“Because he is not yours to torture, but mine to protect. You won't lay a hand on him,” Cas threatens, only this time, Dean does not feel afraid, no, it actually calms him down, “And if you refuse to let him go, I will smite you.”_  
  
 _“Make me,” the demon says and turns towards Dean, his knife raised and ready to carve his demonic symbols into Dean's skin. But before he can do anything, a hand is pressed against his skull, and a blinding light appears, seeming to burn the demon from the inside. His lifeless body falls to the ground, behind him. Behind Cas._  
  
 _“Are you okay?” the angel, Cas, asks, and Dean just nods, “Good. I won't let him hurt you again,” he promises Dean._  
  
 _“But what about your other self?” Dean wants to ask, but he can feel the dream fading._  
  
Relieved, Dean notices that he is in his own room, in his own bed. His back is pressed against Cas, who has one arm loosely enough wrapped around Dean that Dean can get up without waking Cas.  
  
He gets dressed slowly and walks into his kitchen to make some coffee. The conversation of the last night comes to his mind. A part of him hopes that Cas has forgotten about his toys by now, though he seriously doubts it. He could hurry up and get rid of his toys, trying to convince Cas that it was all just a dream, but that’s ridiculous. First of all, Cas is too smart for this, and second of all, Dean likes his toys. Sure there are bad memories clinging to them, but until now Dean has managed to push those away and just enjoying fucking himself with them. But now, he can't shut those memories out any longer. He can't run away.  
  
Especially not since Cas just shuffled into the kitchen with a loud yawn and gladly accepts the cup of coffee, Dean hands him. He has the worst bedhead ever, and looks a bit like a grumpy cat when he blinks and mumbles a tired, “Morning.”  
  
They drink their coffee in silence and Dean almost starts to hope that Cas really has forgotten about the toys, but then Cas says, “So about the drawer.”  
  
Dean flinches and tenses up. What if Cas has changed his mind? What if he’s decided that Dean is pathetic for having those toys or that Dean is just sick?  
  
“You are uncomfortable talking about your toys,” Cas says and Dean just nods. “Why?” Cas' voice is calm, like he and Dean are just talking about the weather. Dean is not sure if this soothes him or freaks him out.  
  
“Don't you think it's sick?” he asks almost not audible.  
  
“What? No, Dean, I would never… why would I… why do you think I would think something like that?”  
  
Dean shrugs, knowing exactly why, though he doesn't want to talk about it.  
  
“Listen, this is obviously something very complicated and uncomfortable for you, and if you want to, we can forget that I ever opened that drawer and never speak of it again,” Cas says, “but I think it would be really important if you talked about this.”  
  
“About what? My feelings?” Dean snorts.  
  
“Yes, for example, or the reason why you have those feelings,” Cas suggests unimpressed by Dean's hostility.

_You are such a slut, your toys are the best proof. Now quit whining and take my cock like the needy whore you are._

The words are burned into Dean's brain. They are the reason he has those feelings, the reason he has only one night stands, the reason he keeps his toys secret. He shuts his eyes again, his body trembling. All he wants to do right now is curl into a ball and forget everything, but suddenly there are two warm hands cupping his face.  
  
“Dean, hey, Dean,” it's a gentle whisper, as tender as Cas' touch, “Please look at me.”  
  
And after a few seconds, Dean does, staring into the comforting blue of Cas' eyes.  
  
“If you can't talk about this, it's fine. I just don't want you to be okay and I feel like you being not okay is my fault since this all started with me opening your drawer. So I would appreciate it if we talked,” Cas explains, “You must know, I would never hurt you,” he adds.  
  
Dean swallows and nods, not able to find the right words. Cas is right, he should talk about this, but he has no idea how. To his surprise, he is suddenly pulled into a hug. It's something they usually don't to. They are not usually this gentle and tender. They are rough and passionate. There was never any affection or care, only want and lust in their eyes. Usually it's the need to get off that brings them together, not the need to feel safe. This is not what their arrangement was made for, but then again, that arrangement was made by strangers, not friends. So Dean actually gives a damn, and lets himself feel safe in Cas' arms, accepting the offered comfort.  
  
“His name was Alistair,” Dean finally says and steps out of Cas' embrace. The feeling of safety weakens immediately, but this is going to be a long story, so it’d be better if they both sit down.  
  
“His name was Alistair,” Dean starts again, “and he abused me.”  
  
He needs to remind himself to breathe, to calm down, before he continues. Cas give him all the time he needs, and then, then Dean tells Cas his story.  
  
Alistair had been Dean's first relationship with a man. They both had been in their early twenties. In the beginning, Alistair had been sweet and nice, and the sex had been awesome too. Dean had been really inexperienced with guys at that time, but Alistair hadn't pushed him at first.  
  
  
Someone had gotten Dean a dildo for his birthday as a joke, but Dean had liked it, and bought a few more, asking Alistair if they could try them out sometime. Alistair had been really delighted about that suggestion, but expressed to Dean that he not only wanted to spice up their sex life a bit, he wanted to turn this into a BDSM relationship. Dean had agreed to it, thinking he could try it out, see if it was his thing. He liked being manhandled and somebody taking control in the bedroom, so he had thought he could give it a try.  
  
But Alistair hadn't planned on trying. He didn’t actually gave a crap about Dean. He didn't talk with Dean about their scenes, his aftercare was sloppy, (if he even cared for Dean afterwards,) and all in all he was a horrible dom and their relationship had become unhealthy.  
  
It had gotten too intense for Dean, and he had wanted to talk with Alistair about it, but Alistair manipulated Dean. He told Dean how his toys were the best proof that Dean was submissive, and that Dean’s only problem was that he needed to get used to this more. Dean believed him for a short while, but then Alistair ignored Dean's safe word when Dean wanted to call it off. This time Alistair got angry, very angry. He told Dean how sick he was, for liking toys, how nobody else but Alistair would accept him like this. How disgusting it was, how Dean could dare to talk back, how Dean was nothing worth, and that he should be glad Alistair still was with him.  
  
Dean believed him. Even though he wanted to run, wanted to hide, he stayed, scared that Alistair was right.  
  
Alistair also got increasingly possessive after that. He screamed at Dean when he stayed away from home too long. He told Dean not to leave their apartment too often, and tried his best to keep Dean away from his friends and family. Every time Dean stayed away what Alistair deemed “too long,” Alistair would punish him and tell him afterwards how lucky Dean was that someone like Alistair still loved him.  
  
And Dean stopped going out. He let Alistair do the groceries and anything else, trying to please him, hoping Alistair would be in a good mood and not punish him tonight.  
  
At some point Dean's family had noticed that something was off and called the police. They confirmed that Alistair was already sued with abuse and rape, and that they had been looking for him for quite a while. Of course they rushed to Dean and Alistair's apartment immediately, finding an unconscious, bleeding Dean. Alistair was nowhere to be found. He had somehow heard that the police were after him and had fled, wrecking Dean beforehand, of course.  
  
It took Dean a long time to get better, and years before he was able to have sex again. It took him even longer to use his toys again.  
  
He still likes rough sex and when someone takes control in the bedroom, but Dean doesn't let them have control over him. That is the reason, why he doesn't want a relationship and only has casual sex so that he can't get attached to his partners. So that he doesn't get feelings for them and depends on them, and their love. Sure, he was the one to suggest the booty call arrangement with Cas, but that is different. There were, and still are, no feelings involved. Actually Dean had originally planned to only keep it for a month or so because Cas had been a huge jerk when they first met. A huge jerk who was a sex god with no flirting skills and who immediately apologized for his bad behaviour.  
  
This had been the first sign that Cas was only pretending to be a jerk, he was keeping up a facade, Dean had realised. Sure, sometimes Cas can still be a bit rude, but Dean knows him better now. He has no idea why Cas still keeps it up sometimes, but he’s sure he has his reasons. Just like Dean has his. And that's the reason why he tells Cas all of this, (except for the stuff concerning Cas, of course.) Dean also doesn't mention that he had started reading Cas' books while he had been with Alistair, and that the books have given him hope.  
  
When Dean finishes his story, he is still a bit afraid that Cas will be disgusted or think that Dean is pathetic. After all this, it's not surprising that Dean has a few trust issues.  
  
“Thank you for telling me, Dean.”  
  
There is no hate, no pity, just Cas' voice. It's low, calming, honest and there is something else, Dean can't tell what. But it sounds like pain. As if Cas is feeling Dean's pain, as if he knows the feeling of abuse. It's sympathy and understanding and Dean breaks.  
  
Through the entire story he managed not to cry, but he can't keep his tears in any longer. Once again two strong arms curl protectively around his body. Again and again Cas tells Dean that it is okay.  
  
They should not do this, it's too personal, too intimate for friend with benefits. They usually don't hold each other, Cas does not play Dr. Freud, and Dean usually doesn't cry in front of others. But now Dean doesn’t give a fuck about it. He trusts Cas, and Cas wants to help Dean. So they hold each other. No matter how much they usually deny it, they care about each other much more than about anybody else. They are important to each other, and even though they both have their walls up, they are always themselves around each other.  
  
They stay like this for a long time. It might have been longer, but Cas needs to go because he has an appointment with his publisher. Of course he wants to call it off and stay with Dean, but Dean assures him that he is fine, and Cas promises that he will return as soon as his meeting is over, if Dean wants him to.  
  
Dean tells him to bring pizza with a smile, and things return back to normal. Only that Cas knows more about Dean and that Dean finally feels better. He knows he should have talked with someone about this earlier, but all the times he has tried to talk to someone, the someone hadn't been Cas.  
  



	15. In which Cas and Dean are not as subtle as they think they are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to all my precious sabriel shippers out there, there is still destiel in this chapter, but you finally get some more of the sunshine chocolate happiness ship (yes that's what I like to call sabriel)  
> I'm also sorry it took me some time to update, but school is a bitch, I try do update more often again, though next week I probably wont, because I'm gonna be at jib con (you can hate me later now enjoy the new chapter)

  
_“Did you know that in Germany people get the 1st of May off?”_  
  
“No, Gabe, we are not moving to Germany,” Sam sighs while standing in the queue of a bakery, phone pressed against his ear.  
  
 _“But it sucks working on my birthday. Think of all the beer and those huge pretzels!”_  
  
The queue finally moves a bit and Sam makes a small step.  
  
“Please tell me you are aware that there is much more to Germany than the Octoberfest and your birthday being Labour Day,” Sam rolls his eyes. No matter how much he loves Gabriel, sometimes his boyfriend can be completely ridiculous.  
  
 _“If I say yes, will you move to Germany with me?”_  
  
“Gabriel!”  
  
 _“I'm just kidding,” Gabriel chuckles and Sam actually has to smile a bit. “Gotta go back to work. See you later, kiddo.”_  
  
“Okay, Gabe, love you.”  
  
 _“Love you, too,”_ and with that Gabriel hangs up and Sam makes a few more steps, almost reaching the end of the queue.  
  
Sam still has to smile, no matter how crazy Gabriel's ideas are, Sam loves him so much. It's so perfect that their birthdays are only one day apart. That's the reason why they decided to celebrate them together, (and it’s also the reason why Sam is currently trapped inside a bakery, waiting for the cake he and Gabriel ordered.)  
  
He can't wait to finally get back to Gabriel's place, (where Sam practically lives by now,) and surprise Gabriel with a delicious birthday dinner. That's the least Sam can do since Gabriel has to work, but if this queue doesn't end soon, Sam won't make it in time to surprise his boyfriend. It feels like has been stuck in the bakery for hours. It's too hot for May, and Sam is sweating, regretting that he didn't cut his hair like Dean suggested weeks ago.  
  
He still remembers the stupid joke Dean made: _“If you grow it any longer, I’ll have to start calling you Samantha.”_  
  
Of course Dean will come to their party, too. He seems to get along quite well with Gabriel, and Sam is sure that Jo and Charlie will like Gabriel as well. The only person Sam would worry about is his Dad, but he and Sam's mum sadly can't make it because they’re staying in Kansas. Though, Mary already demanded that Sam and Gabriel come home for the 4th of July.  
  
Bobby and Crowley are not in town this weekend, having a second honeymoon in Vancouver, but they promised to come to Kansas for the 4th of July as well.  
  
No, Sam doesn't worry at all about his family, he is more worried about Gabriel's. Sure, Castiel had seemed nice and Sam actually had fun at their dinner, even though it was kind of weird how Dean and Castiel had stared at each other all the time. Even though Castiel seemed all right, Gabriel has more siblings and friends, like Anna and Michael, and they make him nervous. Anna is arriving tonight, and Michael will show up tomorrow. Gabriel assured Sam that they both will like him, but Sam is still nervous. Michael is supposed to be a bit overprotective from time to time, so what if he thinks that Sam isn’t worthy? After all, he is just a simple law student. Gabriel works in a very successful publishing company, Michael is an important politician in Washington, DC, and Anna is a famous designer in New York. Coming to think of it now, Sam has no idea how he could even think that they would accept him— a poor student from Lawrence— as their brother’s new boyfriend.  
  
By now Sam is not only nervous, but anxious. He feels a bead of sweat run down his neck, making him shiver with doubt. He is unsure if it’s his anxiety or the heat in the bakery that’s making his mouth dry. All Sam wants to do is run outside and get some fresh air, but he is so close to the counter, and behind him is a mob of impatient people waiting for their turn, making it impossible for Sam to leave. He feels trapped in the bakery, in his thoughts. The constant heat is making his situation only worse, and he could easily be as well trapped inside a cage in Hell, Sam thinks. He needs to talk with somebody, get his doubts out of his head. He takes out his phone and considers calling Gabriel, but Gabriel is busy right now. Sam glances at the clock. It’s about 1:30 PM. Dean should have lunch break right now, so he calls his big brother.  
  
 _“Hello Samsquatch,”_ Dean greets him.  
  
“What if they don't like me?” Sam almost yells, no time for a long story. He needs someone to reassure him right now, or he will probably have a panic attack in the middle of the bakery.  
  
 _“Who, Sammy?”_  
  
“Gabriel's family. What if they don’t approve of our relationship? What if they want him to break up with me?” Sam is close to tears, it's ridiculous, he knows that. Gabriel would never break up with him because his family demanded it, but that’s the thing about anxiety: it's always ridiculous which only makes it worse. Sam already wants to slap himself for calling Dean and talking about his feelings. It's so stupid, Dean is probably annoyed as hell right now.  
  
 _“First of all, they won’t. Second of all, if they do and Gabriel really breaks up with you, I will hunt his ass down and kill him. But he doesn't really seems to be the type for that. And third of all, they will love you, Sammy. You are intelligent, funny, and smart. Also, I don't know why you are getting all nervous. Cas liked you,”_ but there is no annoyance in Dean's voice, only light concern. Sam takes a deep breath and starts to relax.  
  
“Yes, you're probably right. Sorry for bothering you with this,” he manages to calm down slowly.  
  
 _“No problem, I guess I would be nervous too, if I had to meet Ca- my boyfriend’s family,” Dean chuckles a bit, “ But as I said, you already met Cas, and he seems dreamy... he’s just a weird, dorky, little guy, and he likes you.”_  
  
Sam has to frown, weird, dorky, little, guy? But Dean has never been good at describing someone, so Sam just shrugs. Dean probably just wanted to make him laugh. But it's good if Dean and Castiel get along. At least two people won’t start fighting.  
  
“Castiel,” Sam corrects his brother.  
  
 _“Hm?”_  
  
“His name is Castiel,” Sam explains, “Not Cas. I know it's a bit hard to remember, but I don't want you to offend the guy by not knowing his real name.”  
  
Dean is about to say something, and it sounds like he tries to hold back laughter, but before he can reply, the girl working at the counter calls, “Sir, hello, sir? You're next,” and Sam has to end their conversation.  
  
As soon as he’s out of the bakery with a beautiful cake in his hands, he feels better. He decides to walk to Gabriel's place instead of taking the bus. Greedily, he sucks the fresh air into his lungs, finally being able to breathe properly again. Sure, meeting Gabriel's family is still uncomfortably buzzing somewhere in the back of his mind, but Sam just puts up a wall and tries to ignore it.  
  
  
On his way, he comes to pass a grocery store, and outside a stall with strawberries. It's still a bit early for them, but suddenly Sam has a great idea for the dessert. He buys a few, and adds whipped cream and chocolate sauce to his cart, and while he’s at it, he also buys some lollipops for Gabriel.  
  
Sam will never really understand Gabriel's sweet tooth, but as long as Gabriel’s happy, Sam’s happy. And Gabriel’s always happy if he has candy.  
  
A few hours later, Sam finishes cooking dinner, and starts preparing the dessert. For that he strips out of his clothes, grabs a bowl with strawberries, one with whipped cream and one with chocolate sauce, lies down on the kitchen table and places all three ingredients on his body.  
  
And not a second too soon, because just as he is finished, he hears someone opening the door.  
  
Huh, that's weird, Sam thinks, Gabriel shouldn't be home for another fifteen minutes. But maybe they just let him go a bit earlier at work today, so Sam calls, “I'm in the kitchen.”  
  
Excited, he hears footsteps coming closer and when the kitchen door opens he says, “Hey honey, I thought we could— AHH!”  
  
“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY!” a female redhead yells, and puts her hands in front of her eyes.  
  
Sam just hurries to get form the table, to grab a bathrobe, that he had placed on a kitchen chair and hurries to cover himself up.  
  
“Who— who— who are you?” he stutters, blushing embarrassed, his cheeks as red as the strawberries.  
  
“I'm Anna,” the female says, still not daring to look, “I took a flight earlier and thought I surprise my brother and his new bae.”  
  
“Oh god,” Sam groans with panic. Now it's official. He is not going to get the blessing of Gabriel's family. God knows what Anna is thinking of him now, what kind of pervert he must be.  
  
“Is it safe to look?” she asks shyly, peeking through her fingers.  
  
“Uhm… Yeah... I'm... I'm dressed,” Sam replies. This is going to be awkward. Very awkward.  
  
“Honey, I'm home,” of course Gabriel had to choose this exact moment to come home. When he enters the kitchen he finds a blushing, half naked Sam, traces of chocolate and whipped cream in his face, and his slightly shocked sister.  
  
“Anna, you're already here,” he says surprised and gives her a hug, looking from Sam to the table, from the table to Anna, and from Anna back to Sam, his brain slowly putting the pieces together.  
  
“Hey, big brother,” she replies with a smile.  
  
“Oh god, please don't tell this is what I think it is,” Gabriel whispers, pure horror in his voice.  
  
Sam wants to explain it, try to save what is left to save and somehow convince Gabriel not to break up with him, but Anna already starts talking, “You mean an awesome story to tell at family meetings?” a huge grin now spreading across her face, when she turns back to Sam.  
  
Wait, does that mean she is not disgusted by Sam? That she is not planning on forcing Gabriel to break up with him?  
  
“You mean...” Sam stutters again, still afraid of what she might say, his heart pounding in his chest, like it's about to jump out of his chest and to run away, just like Sam would really like to do now.  
  
“I mean that I'm gonna tease you and my brother with this story at every single Thanksgiving, Christmas, Birthday that you two will attend together. And I hope that will be a lot, because I don't know you yet, but I like your style,” she finishes his sentence and stretches out her hand, “I'm Anna.”  
  
“Sam,” Sam says and thankfully shakes her hand. Relief overcomes him, Anna seems not to disapprove of their relationship.  
  
“Thanks for getting us into this,” Gabriel says with fake annoyance, but then adds, “Do I smell pasta? Did you cook?”  
  
Sam just nods, “Maybe I should get dressed properly and then we can have dinner and get know each other a bit better.”  
  
“Oh I don't know, I already got a pretty good look of your insides,” Anna jokes and Sam turns red again and walks towards the bedroom.  
  
Dinner with Anna is really fun. It turns out she as the same, wicked kind of humour as Gabriel, but is still as polite as her brother Castiel. The times flies, and suddenly it's midnight, and Gabriel and Anna sing Happy Birthday to Sam. Afterwards they go to bed.  
  
“Do you think she likes me,” Sam asks Gabriel while he changes into his pyjamas.  
  
“Are you kidding, she loved you kiddo,” Gabriel replies and crawls under the blanket.  
  
“And what about the rest of your family?” Sam needs to ask, he can't keep his doubt secret any longer.  
  
“What about them?”  
  
“What if they don't like me? What if they don't approve of our relationship? I can't lose you, and I can understand if you want to leave me if they don't like me, but I lov—”  
  
“What? Sam, no,” Gabriel gets up and walks over to Sam, cupping his face gently, “Yes, they are my family, and yes, they are important to me, but I would never leave you, Sam. No matter what they say.”  
  
Sam has his eyes close, only focusing on Gabriel's tender touch and his soft voice.  
  
“Really?” he asks.  
  
“Yes. Sam, I love you. Of course would prefer it, if you and my family got along, but I also know that my family can sometimes be a big bunch of dicks, especially Michael. But I won’t leave you, I promise,” Gabriel says, and gets on his tiptoes to press a kiss against Sam's temple, but only reaches his nose. Sam laughs really hard, and he simply can't stop. It gets a bit hysterical, no surprise after this stressful day, not to forget the horrors of the coming one. Sam only stops, when Gabriel gently presses their lips together, his arms wrapped around Sam's waist.  
  
“Let's go to bed,” he whispers softly, and pulls Sam to bed with him.

********   
  


“Please hold!” someone yells outside the elevator and Cas does. He’s actually a bit late for Gabriel's and Sam's birthday party, but it would be really impolite not to hold the elevator. One minute more or less doesn't matter.  
  
“Thanks,” the man says, when he gets into the elevator, followed by an, “Oh, hey Cas.”  
  
“Hello, Dean,” Cas greets him with a smile. He’s happy to see him. They’ve both been busy with work lately, and didn't meet as often as they had liked. It had, of course, nothing to do with Dean telling Cas about his past. Things went back to normal. If anything changed, then it only was that their friendship became deeper, more profound.  
  
“Fancy meeting you here,” Dean jokes and Cas joins him.  
  
“Fancy meeting you here,” Cas grins. They stare at each other for a few seconds; Cas loves to get lost in the endless, green meadows in Dean's eyes, before they both have to laugh.  
  
They are still laughing when they knock on Gabriel's door. To Cas' surprise it's not Gabriel or Sam opening the door, but...  
  
“Anna!” he says with joy, finally seeing his little sister again, and hugs her happily, “I'm so glad to see you again.”  
  
“Me too, Cassie, me too,” she replies, and Cas flinches at the nickname. He’s always preferred Cas, but Anna just loves to tease him.  
  
“And you are?” she asks after she let go of Cas, and turns towards Dean.  
  
“That's Dean,” Cas introduces him, “Sam's brother.”  
  
“Oh, Sam told me about you,” Anna says, a nuance too flirty for Cas' liking, but he doesn't say anything, “I'm Anna. The sister of Gabriel and Cassie here,” she adds, and points at Cas.  
  
“Nice to meet you,” Dean gives her a polite smile, and shakes her hand. To Cas' relief he doesn't seem to want to flirt with Anna.  
  
“Well then, come on in,” Anna says and steps aside so that Dean and Cas can enter.  
  
Inside the apartment Cas spots Gabriel and Sam, who are talking with the blond waitress from the roadhouse. Dean has mentioned her before, her name is Jo, and she is something like their little sister. And if that's Jo, then the redhead with the Star Wars shirt right next to her, must be her girlfriend Charlie. Dean also told Cas a lot about her.  
  
At the other end of the room Cas spots Balthazar, who is talking right now with a taller, more muscular, and fancier version of Cas.  
  
“Michael,” Cas greets his older brother, “I'm glad you made it.”  
  
“It's good to see you, Castiel,” Michael replies with an even darker and more gravelly voice than Cas.  
  
Cas tries to be happy to see Michael, but it's not that easy. The two of them never got along that well, and it pisses Cas off that Michael is just better at everything. He is more successful, he’s more attractive, his voice is far more impressive than Cas'— there was always this silent competition between them, and Michael, somehow, always managed to win.  
  
So Cas hurries to have some polite small talk before he moves over to Dean, who is just having a conversation with Anna and Sam.  
  
“So you're working as a mechanic?” Anna asks, her voice no longer flirty, but still curious.  
  
“Yeah, I love fixing cars,” Dean admits, “especially the classic ones.”  
  
“Yeah, Dean has this old '67 Chevrolet Impala, and it's his most precious possession,” Sam adds.  
  
“Touch his 'Baby' and you’re a dead man,” Cas joins the conversation and earns laughter from Dean and Anna. Sam on the other hand, frowns for a second and gives Cas' a funny look. Then it hits Cas. Officially Dean and he only met once, and Dean didn't even mention his car once during their dinner. Theoretically, Cas isn’t supposed to know this.  
  
Thank God, Charlie interrupts them before Sam can say anything. Cas decides he likes her very much, especially after she joked about him and her becoming best friends just because they talked about their love for Star Wars.  
  
“So, I really want to know,” she starts, suddenly getting the attention of everybody, “How did you two love birds meet?”  
  
For a short second Cas thinks she means him and Dean and starts to panic, but then he realises she meant Sam and Gabriel.  
  
“Oh yes, I would love to hear that story,” Anna agrees.  
  
“If you insist,” Gabriel exhales dramatically and Sam just rolls his eyes.  
  
“We met at the Roadhouse, a local nightclub,” Sam starts, “It was meant to be a simple one night stand,” Gabriel adds, Sam blushes and gives him a warning look. The rest of the group just giggles.  
  
“Anyway, I couldn't stop thinking of him,” Sam continues, “And neither could I,” Gabriel interrupts him.  
  
“In the end, we accidentally met again in this bar, right around the corner. Dean and I wanted to go out, have some drinks.”  
  
“And I was having fun with Balthazar and Cassie,” Gabriel continues.  
  
Wait, that's when they met. Then why can't Cas remember Sam meeting Gabriel?  
  
“Anyway, I was waiting for Dean, but Dean-”  
  
“Was busy making out with a Greek God, right in front of my face,” Jo finishes Sam sentence and winks at Dean.  
  
“That's funny,” Balthazar suddenly says, “Cas was left us to make out with a Mr. Universe as well.”  
  
Fuck, Cas thinks, they’re fucked. It's a miracle that neither Jo nor Balthazar have noticed it yet. They were both there the night Dean and Cas hooked up. Sure Balthazar was wasted and never saw Dean close, but Jo— Jo should be able to remember Cas. Panicked, he looks over at Dean, who seems to have the exact same thought.  
  
Cas definitely is not in the mood to explain that Dean and he had had sex. Sure they could claim that they were too drunk to remember, but Cas doubts that anyone would believe that. Also, if they admit that they had sex, they probably have to explain their friends-with-benefits-arrangement, and Cas knows that their friends wouldn't understand.  
  
So he just shrugs with his shoulders, hoping Sam or Gabriel will continue with the story.  
  
“Anyway, I was waiting for Dean at the bar, Balthazar was about to leave Gabriel as well, and that was when we saw each other,” Sam continues and Cas could kiss him. Dean looks relieved as well.  
  
“Of course I walked over and we talked and did stuff and that's how we ended up here,” Gabriel ends the story.  
  
“So wait, you've basically been together for four monthss and hid your relationship for three months and two weeks,” Dean suddenly asks and Sam and Gabriel both look to the floor, not daring to meet his glance.  
  
“Well that must have been a lot of work,” Dean adds and cracks a smile. Gabriel and Sam look up, happy that Dean is not really mad at them.  
  
It's not really that hard, Cas thinks. He and Dean have basically been doing the same for the past four month, only that they’re not in a relationship, but have a booty call arrangement. The thought comes with a bitter smack, but Cas tries his best to ignore it. This is not the right time to finally end all his denial.  
  
After the story, they get the cake and all sing Happy Birthday again. Of course Gabriel almost throws himself at the cake, but then when he has his piece he actually starts feeding Sam with his cake, it's so cute and sweet it's almost gross. Cas can't help but smile. He is really happy his brother found someone like Sam.  
  
Out of the corner of his eyes, he suddenly spots Michael talking to Dean. And it's not just the usual small talk. No, Michaels muscles are tense, his eyes are restlessly wandering up and down Dean's body, and there is a wolfish grin on his lips. Obviously he is flirting with Dean, and Dean doesn't really seem to mind.  
  
Cas doesn't know if it's because it's Michael, or maybe because he can't lock his emotions away forever, but he feels a sharp pain inside his chest, he immediately identifies as jealousy. He’s tired of playing this game, tired of pretending he doesn't have feelings for Dean, tired of this constant denial. So he is completely able to admit, that it bothers him, that Michael is flirting with Dean. Dean belongs to Cas. Cas of course can understand, that Dean is attracted to Michael, the better version of Cas, but he won’t let this happen. Michael might have won their little war over the past year, but Cas would rather die than let Michael have Dean.  
  
It's selfish, of course. Michael is not the type of guy for one night stands. If he is interested in Dean, he wants a relationship. Dean could be really happy with Michael. But right now, Cas doesn't care. Yes, Dean deserves to be happy, but not with Michael, or anybody else, who isn't Cas.  
  
So he walks over, anger and jealousy pumping through his veins. He doesn't really have a plan, what to say or what to do, but he will make it up as he goes.  
  
When he approaches them, Michael shoots him an annoyed glance, Dean gives him a smile.  
  
“Hey, Dean, can I ask you a mechanical question,” Cas asks, a mischievous grin spreading over his face.  
  
“Sure, ask,” Dean says, grinning as well, and now completely ignoring Michael. Oh, and if only he knew how satisfying that is for Cas.  
  
“You know my car getting a bit rusty because nobody was able to ride it lately. I'm afraid it won’t be so nice to drive if somebody doesn't touch the joystick soon,” God his innuendos are bad and completely ridiculous, Cas actually wants to slap himself. But he is desperate.  
  
Michael frowns, “You mean the gear shift, Castiel, don't you?”  
  
“Yes, of course I mean the gear shift,” Cas says with his most naïve voice, “I'm sorry, I really don't know that much about cars.”  
  
“Maybe I should have a look at it and then teach you something about it,” Dean says and winks. Thank God he understood Cas' horrible attempts to hint the wish of having sex.  
  
“Is your car outside? You know I could  drive it straight to the garage and have a look at it. I mean you need your car, don't you?” Dean continues, and Cas could grab him and fuck him against the closest wall right now.  
  
“You would do that? That would be amazing. I really need my car next week,” Cas replies, noticing the confused look on Michael's face.  
  
“Then we shouldn't waste any more time. I'm sure our brothers will understand,” Dean says and Cas just nods eagerly.  
  
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Michael,” Dean says, and Michael tries to keep a cool expression, but Cas can see behind his facade. He never enjoyed winning so much. Of course Dean is the best prize someone could possibly win.  
  
They say goodbye quickly, and as soon as they are in the elevator again, Dean is pressed against Cas, making Cas heart flutter and his insides feel warm.

*********

It's late in the evening, they are all sitting together in the living room, drinking some wine, exchanging stories. Jo and Charlie are happily cuddled together, just like Sam and Gabriel. Anna, Michael and Balthazar are looking a bit awkward, squeezed into a small couch. They are all still there.  
  
Everybody except Dean and Cas. Sam still doesn't get why the both disappeared so quickly.  
  
“Hey, what's going on in your mind, kiddo?” Gabriel, who is curled against Sam, asks.  
  
“Nothing,” Sam says, he is probably just seeing ghosts.  
  
“You are thinking about Dean and Cas, aren't you,” Anna suddenly says.  
  
Sam is taken completely by surprise, “Wait, so it was not just me?” he asks, “You too noticed, that they behaved weird?”  
  
Everybody nods.  
  
“For someone, who only met twice, they were extremely comfortable sharing personal space,” Gabriel admits.  
  
“And their hands or arms were constantly brushing,” Charlie adds, “definitely too often, for two strangers. Even if it was supposed to be flirting, you don't touch each other that much if you barely know each other.”  
  
“Speaking of flirting, I was flirting a bit with Dean,” Michael confesses, “And Cas suddenly came over, rudely interrupting us, and asking weird things about his car. And Dean just completely fell for it.”  
  
They all stare at each other for a second, nobody else daring to say a word, all busy with their own thoughts. Jo finally breaks the silence.  
  
“The night Dean didn't turn up at the bar and made out with that this handsome guy, was the same night Castiel left you and Balthazar to have a one night stand, right?” she asks and Balthazar and Gabriel nod.  
  
“You know the guy, Dean made out with, looked an awful lot like Cas,” she says.  
  
“And the guy, Cas hooked up with, looked a lot like Dean,” Balthazar adds.  
  
Silence again. This can't be, can it? Wouldn't Dean or Cas have said something, if they had met, Sam wonders.  
  
“Your brother is working at the garage you told me about, right?” this time it's Gabriel, who breaks the silence.  
  
“Yes, but what has Dean's working place to do with this?”  
  
Gabriel's face turns pale, his expression freezes and he just stares into the room, his eyes focused on nothing.  
  
“Cas called me,” Gabriel starts, “he called me once, very angry. He didn't make sense at first, just yelled at me, asked me, how I knew.”  
  
“Knew what?” there is this tension in the room, everybody looking at Gabriel, waiting for him to continue.  
  
“For fuck sake, Gabriel, what did you know?” Balthazar snaps.  
  
“How I knew where his one night stand was working,” Gabriel finally finishes and a gasp goes through the group of friends.  
  
“So does that... Does that mean...” Jo trails off.  
  
“Either Cas slept with Dean,” Charlie says, “Or with Garth. I doubt that he slept with Bobby since Bobby is happily married and definitely not a Mr. Universe. And Castiel certainly did not sleep with me," she glances at Jo, who shoots her an amused look, "and there is nobody else working in our garage.”  
  
“And considering the facts, it's very unlikely that he slept with Garth,” Sam ends their conclusion.  
  
He seriously can't believe it. It's like destiny is playing a prank. If Dean and Cas didn't hook up, Gabriel and Sam wouldn't be together right now. Sam is not sure if he should be thankful, or weirded out. But still, if they slept together once, wouldn't their behaviour have been way more awkward. Except they didn't sleep together only one time. And then Sam remembers the one conversation he had during lunch with Dean. He had asked Dean, if Dean was secretly having a relationship.  
  
“They have been doing it the entire time,” he whispers, too shocked to really believe it.  
  
“I don't think so,” Anna suddenly says, “I mean I don't know Dean that well, but I know Cas. Cas is not the guy for secret relationships. If they had sex, they are now probably gonna have sex again to get out of each other's system, trying to get things back to normal, so they can support you guys,” she nods towards Sam and Gabriel, “or they are now having sex, and in a few weeks they will happily announce their relationship.”  
  
“Nah, I know Dean, I bet he and Cas have been sleeping together for months now and are about to make it official,” Charlie says.  
  
“You bet, hm?” Balthazar asks, “How about we all bet?”  
  
“Bet if they are doing it, how long they have been doing it, if they are just fucking, or if they are going to be in a relationship, and when they are going to make their relationship official?” Anna asks and Balthazar nods, “Hell, I'm in.”  
  
Balthazar and Anna are looking expecting towards their friends. Slowly they all come around and are betting about their best friends having sex. Only Gabriel and Sam are left in the end.  
  
“Oh come on you two, this is going to be so much fun,” Charlie basically begs them and they both join too.  
  
After everybody went home, Sam and Gabriel are moving to their bedroom.  
  
“Isn't it weird?” Sam asks, “That we are betting if our brothers are sleeping together?”  
  
“They are definitely sleeping with each other,” Gabriel replies, trying to oppress a yawn.  
  
“Still, it's weird,” Sam says and gets under the blankets.  
  
“Probably. But you know what's not weird,” Gabriel mumbles, head resting against Sam's shoulder, “You and me, that's not weird.”  
  
“Yeah, you're right,” Sam whispers contend, “And your family thinks so too.”  
  
“Told you they would love you kiddo,” Gabriel presses a soft kiss against Sam's lips, “That was a nice birthday, wasn't it.”  
  
“Definitely yes.”  
  
“I've got one last gift for you, kiddo,” Gabriel suddenly gets up and rushes out of the bed.  
  
“But, Gabe, you already gave me this awesome book about Greek mythology,” Sam tries to get him back to bed, but Gabriel already goes through the drawers of his desk until he pulls out a tiny package with a red ribbon wrapped around it.  
  
“Open it,” Gabriel says, his voice somehow nervous and shaky.  
  
And Sam opens it, inside is a key.  
  
“Thanks, but Gabe,” Sam frowns, “I already have a key to your apartment.”  
  
“I know, I know,” Gabriel hurries to say and now he is definitely nervous, “It's not really the key. It's more the question that goes with it.”  
  
Sam raises one eyebrow, but lets his boyfriend continue his nervous stammering, “Sam Winchester,” he makes a dramatic pause, “Will you move in with me?”  
  
Sam blinks perplex for a few seconds, the fear in Gabriel's face is growing, but then pulls Gabriel down, onto the bed for a really passionate kiss.  
  
“Does...does that mean yes?” Gabriel asks, still a bit anxious after they part.  
  
“Yes,” Sam laughs, “And now get your ass in our bed, I'm tired.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anybody was wondering, the "fancy meeting you here" was a cockles reference


	16. In which Dean is fucked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took me so long, but I was so exhausted after jib con and school was as always a bitch. Any way, you should probably all make an appointment with you dentist, because here you have the sweetest teeth rotting fluff I wrote this entire story

  
As soon as Dean and Cas enter the elevator, they are all over each other, clueless of the bets that are being made about them right now back in the room. Hastily, Dean presses Cas against the wall of the elevator, crushing their mouths together. It's rushed, passionate, too-much-tongue-and-too-much-teeth , and just like all their kisses— desperate. Desperate to get release, desperate to feel, and desperately trying to deny those feelings.  
  
“We need to work on your innuendos, Cas,” Dean moans before he moves from Cas' lips down to his neck. Cas hands are clenching around the back of Dean's shirt; his body is tense.  
  
“Considering what we are doing right now, I assume you understood my references, even despite my shoddy delivery,” Cas mumbles, and Dean can feel Cas' pulse flying underneath his lips.  
  
How can he still talk like this? Dean wonders, not sure if he should be amused or offended. Before he can say anything, the elevator opens with a ping, and they both rush outside.  
  
“Your place or my place?” Dean asks, running towards his Baby, eager to get out of his pants.  
  
“Yours. It's closer,” Cas growls, his voice hoarse, and then pins Dean against the Impala, giving Dean love-bites, just like Dean did a few moments ago.  
  
“Cas,” Dean moans, but softly shoves Cas away, “As much as I appreciate you marking me up,” and, God, yes— Cas leaving his mark and getting all possessive after Dean flirted with Michael— it’s really hot. “Can you just please hurry the fuck up? I need you inside of me.”  
  
“So eager,” Cas almost purrs, but stops to kiss Dean's neck, and looks up. There is something in his eyes that makes Dean shiver, his heart beats furiously against his chest, his fingertips are trembling and excitement and need over come him. “You know if you need it that urgently, I could always fuck you in the back seat of your precious car.”  
  
Cas' hands are tight on Dean's hips. His thumbs rub circles against the fabric of Dean's shirt, and Dean swallows, with difficulty, because Cas did not just seriously suggest one of Dean's hottest fantasies, did he?  
  
“It's late. Dark outside. Your car is parked in a small, unimportant alley, and I bet you even have lube and a condom somewhere in there.”  
  
Shit, Cas is really being serious, Dean realizes.  
  
“Glove box,” is all Dean manages to utter, and a satisfied smirk appears on Cas' lips.  
  
“Get in the car,” Cas whispers, and Dean obeys as quickly as he can. He is shaking with anticipation and desire when he gets in the back seat, and shoves his pants down to his ankles. He has waited for this so long. Even though it's a mild night, Dean's skin is covered with goosebumps. Lying on the backseat is not the most comfortable position, and Dean knows his neck will hurt tomorrow, but it doesn't matter. All that matters right now is Cas, who is weirdly bend over the front seat, trying to reach the glove box. Dean can't help but snort.  
  
“Something funny to you,Dean?”  
  
“You could just have opened the front door, instead of trying to open the glove box from the back of my car,” he teases.  
  
“Shut up, Dean,” Cas deadpans and then suddenly has lube and a condom in his hands and bends over Dean. The space is definitely too small for them, but right now neither of them care. Dean lies awkwardly between Cas' knees, who is constantly about to lose his balance and to slip down from the back seat. And when Cas starts to open Dean up with his fingers, Dean accidentally bumps his head against the cold glass of the windows .  
  
“Ouch,” he half yells, half moans, because Cas is currently stroking his prostate.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“Yes, just hurry the fuck up,” Dean demands, and Cas does.  
  
He lines his cock up with Dean's hole and Dean opens his legs on reflex. He can barely see anything, but definitely recognises the animalistic in Cas' face. He doesn't look in Cas face that often when they fuck. Usually Cas just bends Dean over any surface, or Dean clenches his eyes shut when he rides Cas. The only once had sex in the missionary position, the first time they hooked up together. It's too much gazing into each other's eyes. It’s too close. It’s too intimate. But there is not enough light in the Impala to make heart eyes, and considering that Dean is resting uncomfortably against a door, and Cas just banged his head against the top of the car, they roll with it.  
  
“Wrap your pretty bowlegs around me,” Cas says before he finally sinks inside Dean, followed by, “Oh fuck, you’re even tighter than I expected.”  
  
“That's because lately, no one’s fucked me real good,” Dean accuses and wraps his legs around Cas to pull him closer.  
  
“To fuck you good an- ugh,” Cas pants while bottoming out, “and proper— the Impala is not the best place,” slowly he starts thrusting inside Dean, “Guess I have to bend you over your bed after this.”  
  
“Is tha- oh fuck, right there, harder, fuck Cas, fuck me harder,” Dean moans, his hands desperately trying to find purchase on the backrest, “Is that a promise?”  
Cas’ answer is nothing but a low growl, his hips snapping forward, causing Dean to cry out in pleasure, high pitched and wrecked. They are both sweaty and panting when they come and Cas slowly pulls out of Dean. They sit there for a few moments, looking at the stains on their clothes, trying to catch air.  
  
   
  
On the drive to Dean's apartment, Cas is stroking Dean's thighs, his fingers running over the obvious bulge in Dean's pants.  
  
“If you keep distracting me like this, I will probably crash the car,” Dean mutters, giving his best to focus on the road, and not on the sensation of Cas' sneaky, long, clever fingers.  
  
“I trust you,” Cas says, calm as ever, as if they hadn't just fucked in the back of the Impala, as if Dean had not been begging for more like a desperate omega in heat. Yes, Dean sometimes reads smut fanfiction, don't judge. He especially likes Dr. Sexy MD Alpha/Beta/Omega stories. They’re _hot._  
  
But still, the “I trust you” echoes in Dean's mind. Cas _trusts_ him. And of course Dean trusts Cas, too, probably more than he’d ever trusted a person before, (which is completely mad and ridiculous, considering that he knows Cas for only four months.) But, well, he trusts Cas. And because Dean trusts Cas, he would really, very much, like to try something.  
  
  
When they stumble into Dean's bedroom, trying to get each other naked as fast as possible, Dean breathes, “Wait for a second please,” and then swallows thickly, nervously.  
  
Cas stares at him in a mixture of confusion and concern, “Are you okay, Dean? We don't have to have sex again, if you don't want to.”  
  
“No, I- I- I just,” Dean stutters, “Uhm, I just want to do something.”  
  
“Okay,” Cas raises one eyebrow, but remains in the middle of the room while Dean hurries towards his nightstand. He almost trips over his own feet, but who can blame him? He’s nervous. Dean knows that Cas is okay with this, that Cas would never hurt him, and that Cas knows how important this is. Despite his trauma, Dean really enjoyed the idea he was about to present Cas.  
  
He opens the top drawer, shuddering, and pulls out a small, pink vibrator. He walks over to Cas and places it in his hands. Cas just gives him an even more confused look.  
  
“Uhm... you know, I feel flattered Dean, but I'm much more of a top than a bottom. But if you really want to top me, we can do this. I would just rather prefer being fucked by your cock than your toys.”  
  
Now Dean is the one to look confused, he blinks for a few seconds before he gets what Cas is saying. He finds himself grinning, trying to chuckle and to remain serious. After all, this is a huge deal, for both him and Cas.  
  
“You thought I would want to fuck you with the toy— God, no,” Dean laughs awkwardly, “Cas, I want you to fuck me with the toy.”  
  
Cas eyes widen in surprise, and he sucks in a sharp breath.  
  
“Are... are you sure, Dean?” he whispers, his piercing blue eyes making Dean blush shyly.  
  
He nods, “I trust you, Cas.”  
  
They stand still and in silence for a moment, Cas’ eyes wandering from Dean to the toy in his hand, Dean's fixed on Cas.  
  
“I want you to strip and get naked. Get on your hands and knees on the bed,” Cas finally says, his voice even lower, husky, “But I need you to say stop. If it gets too much, if you don't enjoy this anymore, or if you get triggered somehow, I need you to tell me to stop. Do you understand?”  
  
Dean nods hastily.  
  
“I need to hear you say it, Dean. Can you do this for me?”  
  
Cas cups Dean's face, and looks him directly in the eyes, Dean's legs start to shake. He allows himself to enjoy the feeling. This is different. Cas is so different. Different from Alistair. With him there were never loving touches, never did he make Dean feel safe. Dean had been open for Alistair and Alistair had crushed him. Right now Dean is more vulnerable than ever, his past haunting him. But Cas is not going to rip him apart, he is able to see Dean's scars and he doesn't run away. And that is confusing and wonderful for Dean at the same time. When Cas looks at him like this, he does not feel broken and fucked up anymore. He feels hole, normal. He feels like he is where he belongs.  
  
“Yes,” he mumbles, trying to hold Cas' soul touching stare.  
  
A small smile curls around Cas' lips, “Okay then,” he says softly, and Dean hurries to do what Cas wants him to.  
  
When he is positioned on the bed, Dean hears how Cas slowly approaches him. Dean shortly glances behind himself, only to see. Cas has just lost his trench coat, but is still completely dressed. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up and the top button is undone, and, God, why does that— look so hot? Dean marvels.  
  
A fingertip slides down his spine and makes him shiver, he can hear how a lube bottle is opened, squished, and then put back on top of his nightstand. Only seconds later he feels the tip of the vibrator nudging against his hole. Dean’s heart beats faster and he clenches his fists into the sheets in either anticipation or anxiety. Maybe both.  
  
“Ready?” Cas voice is soft and warm, and suddenly all of Dean's nervousness is gone.  
  
So he says, “Yes.”  
  
Cas starts fucking him with the vibrator.  
  
At first it's gentle and timid, and Dean feels like he has to encourage Cas to go faster and harder. They usually always have rough sex. Dean won’t break, and Castiel knows that. He’s almost about to urge Cas on, but then Cas picks up the pace a little, thrusts the toy inside Dean with more power. A gasp escapes Dean while he desperately tries to rock back on the toy, begging Cas to fuck him harder. But Cas is not in a rush and takes his sweet time before he finally turns the vibrator on and fucks Dean mercilessly. The combination of the constant buzzing against his prostate and Cas' praising how good Dean is and how beautiful he looks like this, sends Dean over the edge in the end too quickly.  
  
With a cry of pleasure, he collapses on his bed, and Cas pulls out the toy.  
  
“Are you alright?” Cas asks, hands soothingly running up and down Dean's sides.  
  
“I'm awesome,” Dean sighs, content and satisfied before he turns around so he can see Cas. His face is calm, but the rushed lift and lower of his chest, tells Dean that Cas was not completely unaffected by this. Curious Deans eyes wander over Cas' body only to spot an obvious boner. So Cas definitely has enjoyed this as much as Dean has.  
  
“What about you?” he asks, “Do you want me to help you with that?” he adds and nods in towards Cas' crotch.  
  
“Thank you, but I think you have already done enough tonight,” Cas says with a gentle smile, “Let's just go to sleep,” he adds and start undressing.  
  
“No way in Hell am I gonna sleep with your boner pressed against my ass,” Dean snorts and pushes himself up on his elbows to get a better look at Cas.  
  
   
  
Cas raises his eyebrows once again and keeps unbuttoning his shirt.  
  
“Well then you could be the big spoon,” he suggests and now gets completely out of his shirt, bare chest perfectly presented to Dean.  
  
Dean struggles a bit with his next sentence. There is another thing he would love Cas to do, and since this is the night of finally doing all the wonderful kinks there are, Dean decides to screw it.  
  
  
“Or you could just, you know, masturbate. And I could, you know, try to catch your come. You could masturbate on my face.”  
  
Cas chokes on air, and a blush creeps back onto Dean's cheeks.  
  
That's it, he fucked up. He finally managed to gross Cas out. Panic starts to swell in his chest, he can't lose Cas, he just can't—  
  
“Maybe you should do the dirty talk from now on,” Cas says with a grin on his lips, “I would just love to know what else is going on in that dirty mind of yours.”  
  
“So, is that a yes?” Dean asks hopefully.  
  
Cas starts to undo his belt and nods towards the edge of the bed. “Sit,” he says.  
  
Dean moves forward and Cas finally, finally is naked. Slowly he starts taking his beautiful, thick cock, (which Dean loves so much,) into his hands and starts jerking off.  
  
Dean doesn't know if he should focus on Cas' stunning face, flashed with desire and want, or on Cas' hard, swollen cock and the load it is about to blast in Dean's face. Hungrily he licks his lips, fingers twitching, eyes restless. Fascinated Dean observes Cas, how his mouth is opened slightly, how his teeth scratch over his lips when his movements get faster. Cas eyes are almost closed, so Dean allows himself to stare more. Stare in Cas' stunning face and at Cas' hot, pulsing, swollen cock, glistening with precum.  
  
It doesn't take long for Cas to reach his climax, and when he comes Dean can't stop staring at Cas' face. How his eyes clench shut with pleasure, how his mouth gapes open, and how he’s panting wantonly, how his features tense up before they go completely lax.  
  
Suddenly hot, white come dribbles on Dean's face, and greedily, he tries to catch it all. To lick it off his face. Dean enjoys the salty, bitter taste and he just loves the feeling of Cas' come all over his body, how it drops down his chest and shoulders, painting his cheeks and chin. It reminds him of how much he would love to have Cas' come leaking out of his hole, love to have Cas fuck him raw.  
  
They’ve both been tested, and they’re both clean, but Cas still always insists on the condom. It's like the last attempt to keep privacy, to become not too intimate. Technically Cas' dick in Dean's ass couldn't be any more intimate, and the fact that they are both now naked, pressed and cuddling against each other fails to retain intimacy as well. Still, it's Cas choice and Dean is going to respect it.  
  
   
  
When Dean wakes up, his back is pressed against Cas' chest, and two strong arms are wrapped around him, holding him like is the most precious thing in the world.  
  
Dean sighs, content. He loves waking up like this. He loves being held tight, loves the heat and aroma of Cas' body right next to him. It sounds like a total cliché, but Cas smells like ink and books, a smack of cinnamon and Dean would love to press his nose against Cas skin, followed by a few, small kisses.  
  
With a yawn, Dean shifts so that he can look at Cas without waking him up. Dean is always happy when he wakes up before Cas. He actually has time to look at Cas. His messy, black hair, his blue, blue eyes that look like they swallowed oceans whole and entire galaxies, (and are closed right now of course.) He gazes upon Cas’ plump, pink lips, his sharp cheekbones, and the scruff on his jaw, God, Dean could spend a lifetime looking at Cas. They’re usually always so eager to get each other naked that they don't really look at the other. Not their faces. Not up close. Their sex is always rough and fast, rarely exploring their bodies with tender touches.  
Right now Dean wants to caress Cas' hair. He wants to gently run a finger over Cas’ jaw and press soft little kisses all over his cheeks.  
  
Cas suddenly turns to lie on his stomach, exposing his bare back to Dean, and Dean's breath hitches for a second, a pinch of guilt in his lungs. Two long, red scars are running down Cas' back. Cas didn't get any horrible complications, but the scars will stay forever, a constant reminder of his gruesome accident.  
  
Dean wants to slide his fingers carefully over those scars, let his lips wander them down and leave a trail of kisses with whispered apologies.  
  
But of course he doesn't. Because they don't do stuff like that. Being all lovey-dovey and sweet. Their kisses are just raw and passionate,if they even kiss. Most of the time they are busy giving each other blowjobs, moaning, or eventually sucking love bites into each other's flesh. And it's all awesome and wonderful, but it's not enough.  
  
Dean wants more, wants to softly peck Cas' lips when he smiles, wants to rub his thumb over Cas' hand, wants to run his hands all over Cas' body, wants Cas to hold him all the time, wants tender touches and gentle kisses, wants affection and for once. No rush. Just slow, sensitive sex, with a lot of touches, kisses and whispers. Not the usual dirty talk, but other things.  
  
All this thoughts make Dean feel greedy and selfish. What is he thinking? They’re friends with benefits. And Cas most likely doesn't want to change it.  
  
A sudden sound rips him back to reality and makes him jerk up.

_'Cause the players gonna play play play/ And the haters gonna hate hate hate/ Baby I'm just gonna shake shake shake shake shake it off_

With panic Dean rushes to grab his phone. Why again did he think this would be a funny ringtone?  
  
“Hello,” he answers his phone.  
  
“Dean,” its Bobby.  
  
“Hey Bobby, how's Vancouver?” Dean asks and looks at Cas, whose eyes are now wide and open. No need to whisper since he’s awake now.  
  
“Crowley’s not cooking, so I'm great,” Bobby’s voice crackles over the phone, and Dean chuckles. “Listen boy, I forgot to pick up a few orders for the garage, could ya please do it for me right now. 'Cause if you're late, they'll sell ‘em to someone else.”  
  
“No problem, Bobby,” Dean says, already looking for his pants somewhere on the floor.  
  
“Great, I'll text ya the address,” and with that, Bobby hangs up.  
  
“Everything alright?” Cas asks and stretches his arms with a yawn.  
  
“Yes, I just have to pick up some stuff for Bobby,” Dean gives Cas an apologetic smile and continues to get dressed, “Sorry that I have to leave.”  
  
“Don't worry, I'll just make myself a coffee and then go to a meeting with my publisher,” Cas shrugs, and Dean breathes out in relief.  
  
  
“Awesome. Does that mean that you're gonna have a lot of aggression to fuck out tonight?” he tries to joke, but he can’t deny he’s hopeful.  
  
“Maybe,” Cas says with a lazy smile.  
  
Dean grabs his keys, his wallet, and then he walks over to Cas and gives him a short peck on the lips. “See you tonight then.”  
  
Dean leaves a puzzled Cas behind when he shuts the door. He remains sitting on Dean's bed, his fingers raise to his lips. Softly, he presses them to the skin.  
  
   
  
Dean sits in his car. Did he just kiss Cas goodbye? The realization hits him like a ton of bricks. It’s another thing they never do. Once again, Dean starts to panic, but the cold rush of his anxiety is suddenly numbed by this other warm, tingling feeling. A bit like adrenaline, just more comfortable. He feels like hot coffee is running down his throat in the middle of winter, filling him with warmth. He doesn't know why, but the memory of the kiss, as short as it was, makes him smile.  
He shakes his head and turns on the radio station, trying not think about Cas anymore.

_Guess it's true, I'm not good at a one-night-stand/ But I still need love 'cause I'm just a man/ These nights never seem to go to plan_

Dean snorts, oh doesn't he know the feeling? It's funny. Cas was supposed to be a one-night-stand, but he somehow managed to crawl underneath Dean's skin, and Dean can't shake him off anymore. If Dean didn’t know any better, Cas seems to have a similar problem. Dean remembers Cas coming to the garage and jerking Dean off, and how Cas had just said that he enjoyed to fuck Dean. Dean had always had the feeling that that was not quite the truth. But maybe he is being just delusional. After all, Dean is still afraid that one day Cas will realize how fucked up Dean is and leave. Dean’s afraid, right now, that Cas might want to end this because of that foolish goodbye kiss.  
  


_I don't want you to leave, will you hold my hand/ Oh, won't you stay with me?_   
  


Dean changes the station, lips pressed tightly together. The song just makes him think about Cas.

_Settle down with me/ Cover me up/ Cuddle me in_

Fan-fucking-tastic, Dean thinks. Is today Valentines Day or something? Why is this shitty radio playing love songs on every station? Everything is reminding him of Cas. Ugh, that sounded wrong. He doesn’t want to “settle down” with Cas, or anything like that. He just hopes Cas will never get bored of their arrangement and leave Dean— because he really likes Cas.

_Lie down with me/ And hold me in your arms_

He really doesn't want to lose Cas. Quite the opposite. He wants to wake up every morning just like this one: happy, cuddling Cas— a lazy morning. Dean can't imagine a world with never waking up next to Cas again. Doesn’t want to.

_And your heart's against my chest/ your lips pressed to my neck/ I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet_

Blue, piercing eyes, Dean can't help but think about them. How sleepy they looked this morning, how lust driven last night. No matter how long he stares at Cas' eyes, they always leave him in awe.

_And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now_

Dean almost crashes into the car in front of him, his feet jumping on the breaks, his heart racing, his hand gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles are turning white. He wants to bang his head against the steering wheel. Maybe he did. Maybe it’d knock some sense into him.  
“Fuck,” he curses, out of breath as if he’d just ran a marathon, “Fuck.”  
He is in love with Cas.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Dean's ring tone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfWlot6h_JM)
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> [Song number one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EzUJgbj-39k)
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> [Song number two ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFfKb_WEkCE)


	17. In which we all have our package to carry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a chapter I was writing and rewriting in my head since I published the first one, and this one is by far my favourite, I guess you will see why. Now enjoy :)

  
It's warm. Pleasant. Buzzing. The sensations spread from his mouth down his throat, enters his lungs, curls around his heart, warms his stomach, and flows through his guts. He can feel the beating of his heart. He can feel the vibration of his pulse, the rushing of his boiling blood throughout his entire body— from his head to his toes, reaching out to the tips of his fingers. But the beating is not furious or panicked, it is calm as the rest of his body. There is no anxiety, no doubt, only wonder and inexplicable joy jolting his veins. He breathes steadily, his lungs inhale air, there's no pressure on them, only the this tingling feeling inside.  
  
His fingers are still resting on his lips, the taste of Dean slowly fading, but the feeling of the touch remains.  
  
Cas' mind seems incapable of comprehending exactly what just happened. His body, though, is running on endorphins. His nervous system is boiling over with hormones. His hands fall down from his mouth only to shoot up a second later.  
  
What the hell?  
  
Cas blinks confused, fingers still pressed against his mouth, tracing his bottom lip.  
  
What the fucking hell?  
  
Did Dean just kiss him goodbye? It's not that they never kissed before, but when they had kissed, it always ended with sex. They never kissed each other goodbye. They never kissed each other like this. They never kissed each other without an ulterior motive behind it. A goodbye kiss is a promise, an expression of love— a sweet memory to cling to. It's number four on the list of Cas’ rules when it comes to casual sex.  
  


1) ~~Leave as soon as possible  
~~ 2) ~~Don't stay for breakfast~~  
3) ~~No cuddling~~  
4) Never kiss goodbye

  
  
More importantly, it was the last rule he hadn't broken yet. He had stayed longer than necessary at Dean's place when he got locked out of his apartment, which also included having breakfast with Dean. This turned into them always spending the night, having dinner and breakfast.  
  
Cuddling, they actually broke the first time they slept together, no matter how much Cas wanted to believe that they had just woken up curled together because they fucked each other into sleep. Actually he has always tried to find excuses, and he’s tried his best to believe them.  
  
He knows he won't find an excuse for the kiss. And the longer he thinks about it, he doesn't want to find one. He’s already has come to terms with the fact that he likes Dean, that he gets jealous when someone flirts with Dean, and suddenly he realizes how close he is to end all of his denial. Before he can come to a finale conclusion, his alarm goes off, reminding him that he has to be in a meeting in an hour.  
  
With a groan, he jumps out of Dean's bed, and gets dressed. Instead of making coffee himself, he decides to stop at his favourite coffee shop and buy a fancy cappuccino with at least two extra shots espresso. He will need it for the meeting with his publisher.  
  
No matter how much Cas loves being a writer, he will probably always hate his publisher. His editor is nice, always making good suggestions, loving Cas' stories. His publisher on the other hand is a dick. Literally. His name is Dick Roman, and Cas never met a person that fitted “nomen est omen” more perfectly.  
  
   
  
Cas is five minutes into the meeting and already wants to shoot himself. Or Dick. Dick’s rambling about how nothing in Cas' new book makes sense, and how he has much to rewrite, “...and I mean why do you suddenly introduce this new character? It's just confusing.”  
  
“Do you mean Damien?” Cas asks, eyebrows raised, challenging.  
  
“Yes, or the righteous man, how you like to call him,” Dick scoffs.  
  
“What's so confusing about him? Nathaniel is forced to work with him to fight Lucifer, and Damien slowly brings back Nathaniel's humanity,” Cas explains, trying not to roll his eyes. How Dick even got his job, Cas won’t ever know. Dick is the dullest person Castiel has ever had the displeasure of knowing, and considering that Cas is a highly intelligent, nerdy author, he knows a lot of dull people.  
  
“Okay, but it's also the way how you write them. Damien calling Nathaniel 'Nate', them staring into each other's eyes all the time, Nathaniel always coming when Damien calls, you’re creating sexual tension,” Dick continues.  
  
Now Cas is clearly annoyed, “I don't see the problem. You being able to recognize their sexual tension is actually a good thing since I was planning on them being endgame,” he explains.  
  
“But you can't,” Dick's face is suddenly twisted.  
  
“And why the hell not?”  
  
“Because Nathaniel is straight! He was together with Maggie. You can't suddenly make him gay,” Dick says, a hint of disgust in his voice. It makes Cas see red.  
  
“For your information, Nathaniel is utterly indifferent to sexual orientation, as am I,” he hisses, eyes darting with fury.  
  
“I will not let you write a book about a faggot,” Dick is calm and determinate, Cas on the other hand snaps.  
  
“Well, do you know what else you will not do? PUBLISH ANY OF MY BOOKS!”  
  
Inraged, Cas jumps up and bangs his hands on the table. This is it. He can't do this anymore. He’s tolerated Dick's bitching about his writing, his characters, his personal choices, but enough is enough. Cas won't tolerate homophobia.  
  
There is a bitter taste on his tongue when he says, “I quit,” his words cold and cutting.  
  
Gracefully, Cas walks towards the door, his back turned to Dick. He almost reaches the door when Dick says, “And how will you ever finish your series if nobody publishes your book?”  
  
Cas turns around, spotting the cruel and smug smile on Dick's lips.  
  
“Oh, God, yes, you're right,” Cas says, words dripping with sarcasm, “How will I, a celebrated, best-selling author, find someone willing to publish my book?”  
Dick's grin disappears and Cas leaves his office.  
  
  
As soon as he’s outside, Cas starts to giggle, which turns into laughter. It's not hysterical, but relieved. Finally, finally, Cas managed to get out of there. Cheerily, he digs for his phone, wanting to text Dean that there definitely will be sex tonight, but not fucking out aggression. Not getting rid of tension, not relieving stress—No, it will be more like celebration sex. Maybe he should buy champagne. Thinking of Dean banishes the coldness that made Cas leave Dick's office, and replaces it with this warm sensation. It feels like sunshine touching his skin on the first, warm day of spring, sending him in a euphoric state.  
  
But when Cas opens his phone, he sees that Gabriel sent him a new message:  
  
 **He said yes**  
  
Cas' breath hitches. Gone is the pleasant feeling. This is not what he thinks it is, is it? Gabriel and Sam love each other, and they make a really sweet couple, but they’ve only known each other for four months. You do not get married after only four months. Also, wouldn't Gabriel have told Cas about this? Of course not, Cas shakes his head, he knows I’d only talk him out of it.  
  
Fingers shaking, he dials Dean's number. Cas isn’t sure if he’s angry, concerned, or, on a really weird level, happy. It’s cute somehow, but he is supposed to talk Gabriel out of this.  
  
 _“Hey, Cas. What's...uhm what's up?”_ Dean answers his phone, and if Cas wasn't in such a hurry, he would probably wonder about how tense Dean's voice is, a bit higher as usual, somehow flustered.  
  
“Gabriel and Sam are engaged and we need to stop this madness,” is all he manages to say. He doesn't even have time for his usual Hello Dean.  
  
 _“I'll meet you at Gabriel's place in ten,”_ Dean answers and hangs up. Cas whistles for a cab.  
  
Ten minutes later, he sprints to the door of Gabriel's apartment, trips, and almost tackles Dean, (who is already standing there,) to the ground. Dean manages to keep his balance, and catches Cas, who is now awkwardly pressed against Dean' chest and weirdly glancing up.  
  
“Hello Dean,” he mumbles, making no effort to stand up.  
  
“Heya Cas,” there is a slight blush on Dean's cheeks and, God, he looks nice when he’s all flushed, but before Cas can pay more attention to the thought, the door opens and they jump apart.  
  
“Dean? Castiel?” Sam is standing behind it, looking confused by the sudden visit of his brother and Castiel, “What are you doing here?”  
  
“You can't get married!”  
  
“You don't know each other long enough to get married!”  
  
“What were you even thinking?”  
  
Dean and Cas both talk at the same time, both trying to stay calm and reasonable, both failing.  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?” Gabriel suddenly joins Sam at the door.  
  
Cas pulls out his phone and presses it into Gabriel's hands, “This.”  
  
Gabriel frowns and looks at the text, “Yeah, what about it?”  
  
“You and Sammy are not getting married!”  
  
“You’ve only known each other for four months!”  
  
Once again Dean and Cas are talking at the same time. Sam and Gabriel look at them, then at each other and burst out laughing.  
  
“What?” Dean and Cas bark in perfect sync. Are they making fun of him and Dean? Cas is already angry enough, now they’re laughing at him?. Impatiently he waits for them to stop laughing.  
  
“You thought,” Gabriel giggles, wiping tears out of his eyes, “you thought I asked Sam to marry me?”  
  
To say that Dean and Cas are confused would be an understatement.  
  
“Guys,” Sam tries to calm his own laughing fit down, “Gabriel asked me to move in with him.”  
  
“Oh,” Cas says. This actually makes much more sense. He feels childish and stupid. And mean. He’s happy for Sam and Gabriel, and he should have been happy if they really had been about to get married.  
  
“But I have to admit, my text was not really well formulated,” Gabriel says, still shaking from the laughter.  
  
“Yeah,” Sam agrees, “That wasn’t so clever.”  
  
“But that are actually wonderful news,” Cas cheers, trying to apologize, “Sorry for making such a fuss.”  
  
“Yeah, we’re sorry,” Dean joins him, and no, the way that Dean used the word we does not bring back the tingling, not at all. Okay, maybe a bit. Cas glances over for a second, only to meet Dean's stare. It's a mixture of we are really a couple of dumbasses, and something Cas can't quite tell. Dean's eyes are shining dearly, a hint of shyness and restraint is there as well, almost like he is testing Cas, wanting to ask something, but not daring. It's ridiculous. Why is Dean looking at me like that? Cas wonders. Still by now Cas' entire body is buzzing like it's filled with butterflies that want to break free, tingling his insides, their wings rushing like adrenaline.  
  
“Uh-hm,” Sam clears his throat, and Dean's eyes shoot towards him, “How exactly did you know about this, Dean?” he asks, “I mean Gabriel informed Castiel, but I didn't manage to tell you yet.”  
  
“Uhm,” Dean starts to blush again and Cas can't look away, his eyes glued to Dean's slightly red cheekbones, his flustered smile, how he tries to answer Sam, “Cas called me and told me about this- eh – misunderstanding,” he says.  
  
“Did he?” Gabriel asks, eyebrows raised, exchanging an amused look with Sam, who is grinning like an idiot. Cas would love to know why those two suddenly behave like two schoolgirls, talking about their crush, but he figures it's probably the excitement of moving together.  
  
“Yes, um, anyway, congrats. When do you actually plan to move?” Dean hurries to ask.  
  
“I'm moving my stuff over on Saturday,” Sam informs them.  
  
“And he and I both will store stuff we don't need,” Gabriel adds.  
  
“You are invited to help by the way.”  
  
“And afterwards we wanted to hit the bar.”  
  
  
It's such a cute, but gross couple habit, ending each others's sentences, Cas thinks, and Gabriel and Sam are doing it on a constant basis.  
  
“Of course we will help,” Dean promises. Again this word. We will help. Again the tingling.  
  
“And hitting the bar afterwards sounds good,” Cas says.  
  
“Do you have any particular wish for a moving in gift?” Dean asks.  
  
“Something specific you need?”  
  
“Or special you want?”  
  
 _Whoops, talking about finishing each other sentences,_ Cas realizes he and Dean are doing it as well.  
  
Once again Sam and Gabriel glance at each other knowingly and it drives Cas insane.  
  
“Not really, just surprise us,” Sam says, “but now that all the misunderstandings are gone, do you two, maybe want to come in before you two start another scene in our hallway?”  
  
Cas and Dean blush, they really have to make up for this.  
  
“I think not. We better leave you two to celebrate,” Dean says.  
  
By now the warm buzzing is like a flash, an electric shock, a burning fire, rushing through Cas. Again with the goddamn we. And what the hell is it with Gabriel's smug grin?  
  
“Yes, we better go. I have to find a new publisher,” Cas agrees.  
  
“You fired Dick?” there is awe in Dean's voice, and Cas imagines that the glisten in his eyes is pride. Cas wants Dean to be proud of him, wants Dean to kiss him. Kiss him softly and affectionately. Kiss him not because Dean wants sex, but kiss him because Dean is happy, triumphant. Cas swallows and nods, giving his best not to give into the urge, after all they are still standing next to Sam and Gabriel.  
  
“That's amazing. The jerk annoyed you constantly, I'm glad you finally got rid of him,” Dean says.  
  
Cas remembers how it felt to be hit by a car. He remembers the metallic taste in his mouth, the warm, sticky blood running down his face, the noises slowly starting to fade away and the darkness lingering over him. And he remembers the impact. The moment when the car crashed against him and he was thrown through the air, the moment his body touched the asphalt. It was the most intense feeling of his life. Yet the car crash feels just like a soft push compared to the realization that he is in love with Dean Winchester.  
  
Cas has tried to deny it long enough, tried to lie to himself, try to tuck his feelings away, though the truth is, the moment he laid eyes on Dean, he was lost.  
He pushed the truth away and away, he almost cracked when he accidentally met Dean in the garage. So Cas acted like a heartless jerk, just so he didn’t have to face the truth. Now it's inevitable.  
  
“I can take care of your new publisher. I know you don't want me to because you think it's nepotism, but for once let me help you,” Gabriel interrupts Cas in a moment of enlightenment .  
  
“Um- I- I’ll think about it,” Cas says, eyes not leaving Dean. Why is Dean suddenly looking at him funny? Wait, why is suddenly everybody looking at him funny? Oh, right, because Cas is probably staring at Dean like he wants to see the depth of Dean's soul.  
  
“I should get going,” Cas shakes his head, eyes finally moving from Dean to Sam and Gabriel, “See you on Saturday.”  
  
And with that Cas basically sprints towards the elevator. It's really out of character for him. He’s usually the cool one when it comes to situations like this, but right now, his mind is clouded and not really working.  
  
“Are you okay?” Dean is suddenly next to him, one hand softly resting on Cas' shoulder. Cas eyes stare at Dean's hand, and Dean hurries to move it away. Cas already misses the touch.  
  
“Yes. I just... needed to get out of there. I'm not really in the mood to discuss my books with Gabriel,” Cas lies. How the hell is he supposed to behave? On the one hand Dean's presence calms him down, gives him this safe peaceful feeling. On the other hand, standing next to Dean gives Cas sweaty palms, twitchy-nervous fingers, and blazing insides.  
  
“So what are your plans for today?” Cas tries to change the subject as the elevator arrives and steps inside.  
  
“I want to drive to the mall, have lunch, and then buy a gift for those two,” Dean says and follows Cas inside the elevator, “Do- um, do you maybe wanna join me?”  
  
“Yes,” Cas says too fast, “I mean, if you want me to come, I could do that.”  
  
Christ, why is he behaving like this? He could fuck Dean right here, right now against the wall of the elevator, and Dean wouldn’t care. Wanting Dean is nothing new, nothing to be sheepish about, nothing to hide. Maybe it's because Cas wants more than just sex. He wants to give Dean a sweet kiss in the morning, wants to rest his head against Dean's shoulder when he's tired, wants entwine their fingers when they leave the elevator. Cas wants more, probably always wanted more, but he gives his best to act normal. After all, this is still Dean. Dean, who has seen him drunk, seen him throw up. Dean who was with him when he got hit by a car. Dean who decided Cas was worthy enough to tell him about his tragic backstory, who trusts Cas. Dean who kissed Cas goodbye this morning.  
  
  
Dean is also the one who suggests that they have burgers for lunch. Cas’ stomach has been rumbling all day, and burgers sound wonderful right now, but Cas knows that the feeling in his guts won't go away by eating fast food.  
  
But still when they get their burger Cas hungrily takes a huge bite. His day has been exhausting from the start until now, and Cas is happy that he can finally rest and eat. Being busy with eating his burger also allows Cas to ignore his feelings and not talk about it with Dean. He needs to figure out how to deal with the fact that he is in love with Dean, or else this is going to be very awkward.  
  
Cas could just keep his feelings to himself, continuing having great, casual sex with Dean. That would work. But what if Dean meets someone special one day and calls their arrangement off? It's unlikely, but it could happen, and Cas knows he won't be able to survive watching Dean fall in love with someone else. So he has to spill his guts. But what if Dean doesn't feel the same? Cas is pretty sure he doesn't. At the end of the day, the whole point of a friends-with-benefits arrangement is not falling in love. Cas failed tremendously. But Dean didn't. Dean just sees him as a fuck buddy and he will very likely end this if Cas confesses his love. So he would lose Dean as well. There is still the possibility that Dean actually feels the same, but Cas doubts it. So he has the choice, either he spills his guts and either ends up with Dean or leaves him immediately, or he keeps silent and continues their relationship just as it is, knowing he will lose Dean one day. Lose Dean now, or spend a few good months, maybe even years with him and then losing him. Cas decides for the latter. He knows losing Dean now would make things easier, he would be able to get over Dean eventually, but he’s greedy, taking everything of Dean he can get. Cas' thoughts are interrupted by a heart warming chuckle.  
  
  
“What?” he asks finally daring to look at Dean again, who is giving him an amused smirk.  
  
“You got there some ketchup,” Dean says and points right to his left cheek. Cas tries to reach the spot with his tongue.  
  
“No, the other side,” Dean laughs and Cas tires again, but fails.  
  
“Wait,” suddenly Dean's hands are cupping Cas' jaw. With his right hand Dean grabs a napkin and swipes the ketchup off Cas' face. With the thumb of his left hand, he slowly strokes over Cas' cheek, even after the ketchup is gone. Their eyes lock for a second, and Cas feels how Dean's finger traces his bottom lip. For a second, the loud noise of the mall is gone, the blinding colours disappear, and all Cas notices is Dean and how close he is. His soft touch, his galaxy of freckles, his smell. It's just the blink of an eye before they actually realize what they are doing, how intimate they are and they both somehow jerk apart.  
  
“Yeah- um, thanks,” Cas says lamely, wishing nothing more than for Dean to touch him again.  
  
“No problem,” Dean mumbles and focuses on finishing his burger. There is an awkward silence and Cas tries to come up with a subject really fast, he doesn't like this weird tension between them.  
  
“So do you already have some kind of plan of what you want to give Sam and Gabriel? Because I have no idea what to get Sam. To please Gabriel it just has to be sweet and sticky, I thought maybe an ice cream machine, or something like that, but on the other hand who actually uses an ice cream machine? And does Sam like ice cream? Should it maybe be something more practical?” oh God, and now he is rambling like an idiot. He, an author, a master of words. He’s never made a fool out of himself with speech and now this is seriously happening. But Dean only grins.  
  
“Maybe something more practical, Cas,” he says and finishes his burger completely, “I thought maybe a waffle iron?”  
  
“Gabriel already has like ten,” Cas informs Dean, “but with cooking devices we can't go wrong.”  
  
“Okay,” Dean nods, “And Sam likes books. Maybe we find something like 'Cooking for couples' “  
  
Cas likes the idea, cooking with someone, who actually is able to cook, is really enjoyable. From countless casseroles, Cas knows that Dean is an excellent cook. He would love to cook together with Dean, he suddenly realizes.  
  
“Then I would suggest we go to the bookstore over there,” Cas says, and they both get up to walk across the mall.  
  
While they walk, their arms constantly bump against each other. It makes Cas' skin buzz. A smile appears on his face. Cas loves bookstores, loves the smell of freshly printed paper, the sound of rustling pages, bookstores always make him feel home.  
  
He and Dean have looked through a few books already when there is suddenly a deep, female voice right behind them, “Hello, Clarence.”  
  
No. No, this can't be. Cas tenses up, his body freezing, his insides screaming in fear. No, this can't be happening. Slowly he turns around and there she stands. In perfect shape as always.  
  
Her hair, long and curly, falling over her shoulders, framing her heart shaped face, her brown eyes filled with curiosity and mischief, her lips twisted into a cruel smile.  
  
“Meg,” is all Cas manages to say.  
  
“I see you still have this ugly ass trench coat,” she laughs, hollow and fake. Cas feels like he is drowning, his knees are shaking, the air is sucked out of his lungs, and he can't do anything but stare at her and keep silent. It's like a flood is rushing over him, tearing at him from all sides, pulling away the ground beneath his feet.  
  
“Who’s the rude chick?” a warm hand curls around Cas', he can feel Dean protectively standing right next to him, his tower of strength, like a rock in the surge preventing him from drowning.  
  
“That's Meg,” Cas says, slightly distracted by Dean's thumb, which is rubbing over the back of Cas' hand. But the movement also keeps Cas on his feet.  
  
“I'm Clarence's ex,” Meg adds, “And you are?”  
  
“That's Dean,” Cas introduces them, “He is my...” scared Cas glances at Dean, silently asking for help. What is Dean?  
  
“He is my...” _friend? Fuck buddy? The man I'm deeply in love with?_  
  
“Boyfriend,” Dean cuts in, “I'm Castiel's boyfriend.”  
  
Either miracles happen and Dean understood exactly what Cas asked of him with his silent plea, or Cas needs to make an appointment with his doctor to get this ringing out of his ears. Did Dean just say boyfriend? Well apparently he said something, because Meg suddenly doesn't seem so confident anymore.  
  
“And now if you’ll excuse us, we have to buy a book about moving in together,” Dean says and pulls Cas with him.  
  
“Just be careful that he doesn't screw you over. Clarence likes to do that to people who are close to him!” she yells behind them and Cas flinches.  
  
Of course she had to say something like that. It wasn't enough to turn Cas into a pale, shaking mess, no, she had to warn Dean. Cas could never screw Dean over, never hurt him. But on the other hand, he also never thought he would choose Meg above his family.  
  
“I think she’s gone,” Dean says, after turning his head to all sides, his eyes now resting on Cas with concern, “Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, I just- um, I'm fine” Cas' voice is hoarse and wrecked, he still feels cold and empty, “Thanks- , thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend,” he finally adds.  
  
“No problem, I figured you could use something like that,” Dean smiles, but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. Cas feels guilty, he probably made Dean feel really uncomfortable.  
  
“You can let go of my hand now,” Dean points out, and Cas stares at their hands, still entwined.  
  
“Yes, of course. Sorry,” Cas hesitates to separate their fingers. He doesn't want to let go of Dean's hand, but he probably made Dean uncomfortable enough. As soon as he stops touching Dean this ugly turmoil punches through his guts, making him feel miserable. Memories of Meg and his family come into his mind, guilt and self-hatred. He just wants to curl up to a ball and hide under a blanket.  
  
Dean seems to notice how uncomfortable and horrible Cas feels.  
  
“C'mon let's get you home,” he says, and grabs Cas' hand again to guide him out of the mall. At least a tiny, small smack of warmth floats through Cas again.  
  
  
Cas has actually no idea how he ended up on his couch, a blanket wrapped around him and a cup of tea pressed into his palms. He’s been trapped in the darkness of his thoughts the entire way home.  
  
The rim of the cup is pressed against his lower lip, hot steam rising over his face. It's calming, but even more calming is Dean, who just sat down opposite from Cas on the couch, eyeing him worriedly.  
  
“I know you and I are not the best when it comes to feelings and stuff,” Dean says after a few minutes of silence, “But do you wanna talk about this?”  
  
No, Cas definitely does not want to talk about this. Ever. But on the other hand Dean deserves to know, deserves to know what kind of fuck up Dean is calling his friend, deserves to know what an asshole Cas is.  
  
“It's a long story.”  
  
“I have time,” Dean says, a slight smile on his lips.  
  
“Okay,” Cas takes a deep breath and starts to tell Dean about him and Meg, “In the beginning we were both deeply in love. She made me really happy and inspired me. But she never really got along with my family and at some point she started to manipulate me.”  
  
Dean's eyes widen a bit, but he remains silent. Cas takes another sip from his tea and then continues, “She convinced me to skip family meetings, to stop calling them. She suddenly pointed out all their flaws and tried to convince me, my family would hate me and made me hate them. I hurt a lot of people because of her, and I lost many good friends,” he hesitates. Remembering how well she played him, a bitter smile on his lips before he continues.  
  
“She became Frankenstein and made me her monster. Only a few were able to see the real monster behind the monstrous. Fortunately, Gabriel and Ji-...others were not willing to give up on me, tried to reach out to me. At first I ignored them. But one night I came home and caught Meg cheating on me. And instead of asking for forgiveness, trying to convince me it was only this one time, she laughed and asked me if I was really stupid enough to think someone could love me,” Cas pauses, staring into nothing he silently adds, “She was right. As if somebody could.” Cas hasn't realized that a tear was running down his cheek, until a thumb wipes it away, two warm arms sling around him and a soft kiss is pressed against his forehead.  
  
“Obviously she was wrong,” Dean whispers while he slowly begins to stroke Cas' hair.  
  
Cas lets it happen, presses himself even closer against Dean's chest, enjoys the gentle up and down, the warmth, let's Dean comfort him. But Dean is actually the one who’s wrong. If he knew about Jimmy, about the transplant, how it's all Cas’ fault, Dean would jump up in disgust and never come back. But Cas doesn't tell Dean. He can't. Instead he just whimpers, “Please don't leave.”  
  
Dean presses his lips against Cas' temple, “I won't,” he says.Then he lays a finger under Cas' chin and slowly lifts Cas' face up.  
  
“I promise,” he swears before he kisses the corner of Cas' mouth. Cas knows Dean only means this for tonight, that he will stay with Cas only for tonight. But Cas likes to imagine Dean meant forever.  
  
Their faces are only inches apart, Dean's finger is still under Cas' jaw and they stare at each other their soul consuming stare. Shyly Cas moves his face closer to Deans, eyes still locked with him, and then hesitatingly kisses Dean. And Dean kisses back slowly. The kiss is not intense or passionate, they don't even kiss with tongue. No it's gentle, tender, and the best kiss Cas ever had. They kiss like this for a while before Dean starts to kiss the corner of Cas' mouth, then Cas' cheeks, his jaw, until Dean's mouth reaches Cas throat. But he does not like usual suck and bite into Cas' flesh, no it's just the delicate touch of his lips. After Dean' lips trailed down Cas' neck, he returns to Cas mouth. When he kisses Cas once more, Cas feels like he is floating a few inches above the floor, he feels light and free, a burden taken away from his chest allowing himself to breath, yet he is breathless at the same time.  
  
Somehow they both manage to get up, their lips sealed together, and move to Cas' bedroom. Their bodies are pressed together, hands running soothingly up and down sides, fingers brushing through hair and over exposed skin.  
  
Cas knows they shouldn’t do this. He knows that he’s being greedy, but he can't stop either. His entire body, even his soul aches for Dean.  
Carefully they strip each other of their clothes until they’re bare, and Cas tentatively guides Dean to the bed and gingerly presses him onto his back into the mattress, their lips always together.  
  
When Cas falls separate, he looks at Dean. It's not just a quick glance no he takes his time to admire Dean's strong arms, the map of freckles covering his shoulders, his squishy tummy, his long bowlegs and his amazing, already-hard cock.  
  
“You— you’re beautiful,” Cas says in awe, and Dean blushes. Before Dean is able to disagree, Cas silences him with another kiss. “And stunning, and funny, and intelligent,” he adds while he kisses every single of Dean's freckles on his shoulders, Cas' hand slowly stroking over Dean's dick.  
  
Dean gasps at the sensation, his hands caressing Cas' hips “Cas- you- you don't-”  
  
“I do,” Cas interrupts him.  
  
He reaches out to grab the lube, that stands on the nightstand. His eyes lock with Dean's again when he opens the bottle. He pours some lube on his fingers before he just throws the bottle away, and gives Dean another sweet kiss.  
  
“And wonderful, brilliant, kind,” Cas continues.  
  
This is a mistake and he knows it, he knows this can't end well for him. Dean makes him vulnerable and open and there is an alarm in his head ringing, but Cas doesn't care. If he is about to ruin his life, he will do it right. Go big or go home. And this might be his last change to sleep with Dean like he always wanted before Dean finds out what else Cas has done and leaves Cas forever.  
  
But right now all his memories, his guilt is numbed by the salty taste of Dean's skin, when Cas' lips trace down from Dean’s shoulder to his chest. Numbed by the sound of Dean's hitched breath when Cas slowly inserts a finger in Dean's hole and starts to open him up. Numbed by Dean himself.  
  
  
Cas pushes another finger inside Dean while his tongue drags over Dean's nipple. A moan escapes Dean and he buries one hand in Cas' hair and the other one digs into the flesh of Cas' shoulder.  
  
“Ugh, Cas, please,” he begs, but Cas takes his time. If they are doing this, they'll do it right. No rush, no roughness. As much as he likes to make Dean scream in pleasure and ecstasy, this time it's different. Of course he wants Dean to feel pleasure, but this is not about just getting off, about fucking the stress out of their system. This is just about them.  
  
Cas pushes a third finger past Dean's rim, his mouth moves over to Dean's other nipple, giving it the same treatment while Cas' fingers smoothly scissor him open. Dean's hands are all over Cas, stroking, circling, never getting enough of Cas' skin.  
  
When Cas decides Dean is open enough, he gives Dean another tender kiss, slowly pulls out his fingers and gets up to grab a condom. But Dean's hand suddenly catches his wrist.  
  
“Please leave it,” Dean says shyly, “want to feel you.”  
  
They are not supposed to do. This whole love making instead of having rough sex, is wrong, and not wearing a condom is probably the worst they can do. Cas knows he won't recover from this, knows if fucks Dean raw, there won’t be a way back. It's the last straw. The last thing that kept them away from complete intimacy.  
  
But Cas can see the desperation, the plea in Dean's eyes, so he returns to the bed, kissing Dean again. He lines his cock up with Dean's hole and looks Dean deep in the eyes.  
  
“Ready?” he asks, and Dean nods.  
  
Carefully, Cas sinks in, inch by inch by inch, until he has completely bottomed out. Gradually, he pulls out of Dean, and softly pushes back inside. His thrusts are gentle but deliberate. His hands are suddenly locked with Dean's, fingers entwined.  
  
Dean is tight and hot as always, making it hard for Cas not to come on the spot. The heat of Dean's body radiates, and makes Cas body burn as well. He feels drunk on endorphins, his heart beating like the roll of a drum, his soul screaming in agony and pleasure at the same time. Having Dean like this is all he’s ever wanted. The taste of sweet victory clouds his mind, he barely notices that Dean detaches one hand, softly puts it on Cas neck, and pulls him down for a kiss. As sweet as victory might taste, the taste of Dean's lips is like ambrosia when Cas swallows, the saliva running down his throat feels like honey.  
  
Cas eventually picks up the pace a bit, their lips constantly locked, bodies pressed together. Dean's cock is captured between them, getting the friction Dean needs.  
  
“Cas,” Dean manages to gasp between kisses, Cas can feel that Dean is close, his muscles already clenching around Cas' throbbing cock.  
  
“I need you,” Dean says, and the words send Cas over the edge. Dean could as well have told Cas, he loves him. Cas insides are just a vortex of feelings and hormones, the air is sucked out of his lungs, his heart skips a beat, and his blood is boiling. This sudden confession of affection leaves Cas kind of in a trance. He barely registers that the sensation of his hot cum shooting inside Dean, sends Dean over the edge as well.  
  
“Need you, need you,” Dean repeats it all over again, shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm.  
  
Their bodies are still pressed together, they are holding hands, and Cas kisses Dean as if his life would depend on it. It's still sweet and lovely, but this time there is passion as well, only that now it's not too much tongue, or too much teeth. It's the perfect measurement, of tenderness and want.  
  
Cas doesn't even bother to pull out of Dean, they both just shift until they are in a comfortable position. Dean's eyes are already closing.  
  
“You have me,” Cas whispers.  
  
And with Cas still inside Dean, they both fall asleep.  
  
   
  
Cas is still half asleep, his eyes are closed, but he can feel how Dean moves besides him. No, Cas doesn't want him to leave. Possessively he wraps his arms around Dean's waist, at least he thinks it's Dean's waist, and mumbles, “Stay. Don't go.”  
  
He can hear a slight chuckle, “Don't worry,” and two lips are pressed against his forehead, “I'm just gonna make coffee and breakfast, I'll be right back.”  
  
Coffee is a good excuse, but still it takes a few more sweet kisses, to convince Cas to let go of Dean.  
  
Cas lies in bed for 15 more minutes before he slowly rolls himself out of bed, grabs a pair of boxers, and shuffles to the kitchen.  
  
Dean is standing with his back towards Cas cooking bacon and eggs, wearing Cas' sweat pants and an old t-shirt. It's a bit tight for Dean, but it looks really good on him.  
  
Cas could get used to this, waking up every morning next to Dean, watching Dean make breakfast. Of course they did this before, but just like their sex, it had been rushed.  
  
Cas spots two cups of coffee next to the hotplate and right in front of Dean.  
  
Yawning, he wraps his arms around Dean, who doesn't even flinch, so he knew Cas was watching him, and grabs a cup.  
  
“Morning,” Dean says and turns around. Cas' arms rest on lazily on his shoulder, holding the cup behind Dean's neck.  
  
“Morning,” Cas says with a happy grin as Dean places his hands on Cas' hips and pulls him in for a kiss.  
  
Suddenly the doorbell rings and the both part surprise.  
  
“I'll go,” Dean says and Cas wants to protest, but then he remembers he is only wearing boxer shorts, and there is still some dried come on his chest.  
  
“Hello, is Castiel here?” he hears a female voice asking from the door, and Cas gasp. He hurries to the door, not caring that he isn't even dressed, and when he sees her, he freezes.  
  
“Castiel,” the girl's eyes widen, Dean turns around in surprise.  
  
Cas can't move, his body doesn't let him. He just stares. After a few seconds he finally manages to speak.  
  
“Claire?” he asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops cliffhanger


	18. In which problems are solved

  
When Dean wakes, he cannot differentiate fantasy from reality. He still has his eyes closed because he knows the moment he opens them, he has to face the truth. It couldn’t have happened. Life has never been fair to Dean.  
  
Still, he can feel someone lying next to him, feel soft breath against his skin. Slowly he opens his eyes, turns his head, and his heart begins to stutter. Right next to him lies Castiel smiling in his sleep.  
  
Dean can't take his eyes off of Cas. He wants to kiss those lips again, run his fingers through his messy hair, and just cuddle himself against Cas like last night. It still seems surreal, and Dean actually has problems remembering it. It’s hazy as a dream might be.His body is flushed with adrenaline, endorphin, and happiness. Cas had turned into Dean’s own personal drug, bringing Dean to a high, making Dean become addicted. All the sweet kisses, the whispered adorations, the endless touches, shy yet craving. It's all blurry, and still it remains the most vivid memory Dean has. There is only one thing Dean can't say if it happened, or if it was just a dream.

_You have me._

Did Cas really say that? Dean had already been half asleep when Cas had mumbled the words. Dean is sure that his mind made that up, it's too good to be true. It couldn’t have happened. Dean already has problems believing he’d slept with Cas like this, all sweet and loving, not rough and brutal as usual. But there are still Cas' marks on Dean's skin, proving it really happened.

_You have me you have me you have me you have me you have me you have me you have me_

It's an endless loop in Dean's mind. Dean feels as if Cas did not only mark his body, but Dean's soul as well. He tries to think, to come to a conclusion.  
  
Let's consider Cas really did say those words, Dean thinks, did he mean them? And if he meant them, does that mean, he-, but Dean can't bring himself to finish that sentence. If he finishes that thought, he will have something perilous. Hope. Hope that he is not the only one who failed the main objective of a friends-with-benefits relationship. That he isn’t the only one who wants more.  
  
He can't think about this without a coffee, so he moves to get out of bed. It's ridiculous anyway, Dean thinks, Cas could never-  
  
But in that moment an arm wraps around Dean's waist and pulls him closer to Cas.  
  
“Stay. Don't go,” Cas mumbles.  
  
At this point Dean is close to blurting out, I love you. Every fibre of his being urges him to say those three little words. Urges him to grab Cas and never let him go. His chest hurts, and Dean is sure he’s going to combust from all the emotions overcoming him.  
  
But instead of confessing his love, he just chuckles, “Don't worry. I'm just gonna make coffee and breakfast, I'll be right back.”  
  
Carefully he presses a kiss against Cas' forehead. Cas uses Dean closeness only to wrap himself more around Dean making it impossible for Dean to leave. And that's just not fair. How is Dean supposed to get up, if a warm, needy Cas is pressed against him demanding him to stay. It takes Dean a lot gentle kisses and whispered promises before Cas lets go of him.  
  
Dean takes a quick shower, almost feeling guilty about it. Water and soap washing over his body, running over his skin, over the places where Cas has touched him. When he’s finished his shower, he takes Cas' sweatpants and an old t-shirt. It's a bit tight, but Dean doesn't mind. It makes Dean feel closer to him.  
  
When he enters the kitchen he hurries up to cook breakfast; his stomach already grumbling hungrily. At some point he notices Cas standing in the kitchen door, but Dean just continues cooking. After a few minutes Cas slowly walks towards Dean, and suddenly two arms are wrapped around him again. One arm grabs a cup of coffee standing in front of Dean.  
  
“Morning,” Dean says and turns around carefully, making sure Cas' arms stay around him.  
  
“Morning,” Cas repeats, a happy grin on his face, and Dean just has to kiss him. Because he can now. It was an unspoken rule between them, no kisses unless they end with sex. This rule is gone now. So he puts his hands on Cas' hips, pulls him closer, and pecks his lips.  
  
Dean could do this forever, wants to do this forever. Waking up next to Cas, cuddling, making breakfast, and all the domestic crap that he tried to run from for so long. This is perfect. Or at least it is until the doorbell rings.  
  
Dean looks at Cas, who is only wearing boxer shorts, hickeys and dried cum all over his torso, and says, “I'll go.”  
  
Cas looks like he is about to say something, but then realizes that Dean is the one who is wearing more appropriate clothes.  
  
Also Dean doubts that it's going to be someone they know. Probably just the mailman, or a neighbour, who needs a cup of sugar. And even if it's Sam or Gabriel, Dean figures he wouldn't mind them finding out anymore.  
  
But it's not the mailman, nor one of their brothers behind the door. It's a young, blonde girl, a worried look in her blue eyes. The immediately remind Dean of Cas' eyes.  
  
“Hello. Is Castiel here?” she asks nervously. Something seems to be off with her.  
  
Dean is about to ask what she wants from Castiel, but before he can do so he hears footsteps behind him.  
  
The girl's eyes widen and she exclaims, “Castiel.”  
  
Why the hell did Cas come to the door, Dean wonders when he turns around. He realizes that Cas definitely has a reason. His face is pale and petrified, he looks like a marble statue. It's even worse than his expression when they met Meg. And all Dean wants to do, is wrap himself around Cas, tell him it's going to be okay, and promise him to stay with him. Just like last night. Dean meant every single word he said. He is not going to leave Cas. No matter what Cas has done in his past, Dean will stay with him.  
  
“Claire?” Cas finally asks, voice fragile, “What are you doing here?”  
  
Hesitating, Claire walks in Cas' apartment. Dean steps aside, and closes the door behind her.  
  
“Mom is on a bender, and she hasn't been home in a few days,” Claire says plainly, “Maybe you can help me?”  
  
The question somehow seems forced, like Claire really has to vanquish herself to ask. Her body is tense, her arms crossed in front of her chest defensively, yet her fingers are twitching nervously.  
  
Cas still just stares at her, and it breaks Dean's heart how helpless he seems himself, but Dean feels like an intruder. He has no idea who this girl is, or what her relationship with Cas is, but just standing there makes Dean uncomfortable.  
  
“Yes, of course,” Cas finally speaks, “Just give me a moment, I'm going to get dressed.”  
  
Claire nods, and Cas hurries towards his bedroom, leaving Claire and Dean alone.  
  
When Claire looks at him, Dean tries to give her a smile. It's still awkward though. Clueless what to say, Dean bites his lip.  
  
“Do you want coffee?” he offers, “Or something to eat?”  
  
“Coffee would be nice. Black please,” she says, the friendly tone definitely fake. But Dean can't blame her. He would probably react the same way, if he were in her situation.  
  
After he hands her a cup and she takes a sip, she asks, “So you are the new guy my-...uhm Castiel is screwing?”  
  
Dean chokes on his own coffee, and blushes. That is a question he didn't expect.  
  
“I'm a friend, and I crashed here last night,” Dean has never been so thankful for his skills in lying.  
  
Claire tilts her head. It's the same motion Cas makes, Dean notices confused. But before he can think more about it, Cas enters the living room, this time in jeans and a hoodie. His face is still pale, his movements stiff. His blue eyes are filled with anxiety, and once again Dean just wants to get up and hold him. But he can't. They should talk about this, but Claire needs to talk with Cas more urgently than Dean. Also what Claire and Cas have to talk about is their business, not Dean’s. He already feels awkward just sitting there. He should leave. It would be the best. Sure he doesn't want to leave Cas, but he can't just stay there and hold Cas hand while Claire spills her guts. For Cas Dean might be a confidant, but for Claire Dean is a stranger.  
  
  
So he gets up and says, “I better leave you two alone. I guess you have a lot to talk about.”  
  
Cas nods thankfully, but says, “I'll bring you to the door, when you're ready.”  
  
Dean hurries to get dressed and when he stands in front of the door, Cas gives him a short goodbye kiss. It takes Dean by surprise, yet forces him to smile like a goof.  
“Don't forget to pick me up later,” Cas says, “We promised our brothers to help with the moving in.”  
  
“Okay,” Dean's voice is way too high for his liking. Cas wants Dean to pick him up. Cas wants to spend time with Dean, even though this Claire girl showed up. Cas is okay with Dean leaving, but wants to see him again.  
  
He starts walking out the door when Cas grabs his wrist and says, “Oh and another thing,” lips are again pressed against Dean's. The kiss is a bit more passionate, a bit more forceful, like Cas wants to burn the memory of it in Dean's mind. As if Dean were able to forget this kiss.  
  
“Don't be late,” Cas whispers and Dean just nods, his limbs shaking, his head dizzy. Cas gives him a smile and closes the door. He can't stop grinning while he walks down the stairs, or while he drives the Impala. He feels as if he just walked into a Disney movie. The sun is shining bright, he can hear the birds twittering, he sings loud and off key to the song playing on the radio.  
  
Of course he is still a bit worried about Cas and Claire. But it doesn't seem like Claire would change anything about the thing going on between Cas and him. But what exactly is going on between them, Dean wonders. Dean is in love with Cas, but what about Cas? Dean thinks about last night, and this morning, and the goodbye kiss Cas gave him. He knows he shouldn’t get hopeful, but Dean can’t help it. Maybe he is just being delusional because he wants Cas. Or maybe Cas wants him, too. They definitely need to talk about this. But not today. Cas already has enough stress with Claire, Dean figures.  
  
When he gets out of his car, his phone rings all of a sudden.  
  
 _“Hey Dean, it's Lisa,”_ a voice says from the other end of the line.  
  
“Hey Lisa,” Dean answers, his grin growing wider. He and Lisa haven't spoken for a while, “To what do I owe the honour of your call?”  
  
 _“Ben and I just moved into the suburbs, and we’re in the city today. Thought we could say hi.”_  
  
“I promised to help Sammy move in with his new boyfriend. But we’re hitting a bar later, why don't you join us? I'm sure the others would like to see you again,” Dean struggles to hide his excitement. He would love to see Lisa and Ben again. Even though they broke off a long time ago, Dean still loves Lisa. Completely platonic of course. His heart now belongs to Cas.  
  
 _“Is the bar child-friendly?”_ Lisa asks hesitantly, _“Or do I have to find a babysitter for Ben?”_  
  
“Nah, don't worry. It's a nice, child-friendly bar,” Dean says.  
  
 _“Okay, text me the address and time. We'll see you there.”_  
  
“Awesome,” Dean says and then hangs up. This day can't get any better.

 

*********

  
“I made a few phone calls,” Cas says, “They found your mom and sent her to rehab.”  
  
“And that will work so well,” Claire's voice drips with sarcasm, “You know, the last time she finished rehab she celebrated with another bender. This one actually.”  
  
She sits on Cas' couch, her arms still crossed in front of her chest, anger in her eyes. Cas wishes nothing more than to be able to hold Dean's hand right now. But he shouldn't bother Dean with this. It's Cas' mess, not Dean's. Also Cas still fears the day Dean will find out the entire truth.  
  
“I'm truly sorry Claire,” he starts.  
  
“I know, you never wanted this to happen, you blame yourself, so on and on,” Claire interrupts him sharply, “You said it a thousand times, and it still doesn't help.”

Cas goes silent. Yes, this is his fault. Yes, he blames himself. Every day he does. He has to live with this guilt, eating him up from the inside like, burning through him like acid.  
  
“I know you probably don't want to,” he finally says, “but as long as your mom is in rehab, you can stay here.”  
  
Her head shoots up, and Cas allows himself to see something like relief behind the rage in her eyes.  
  
“And when she’s done with rehab, I move back to live with her again. Until she disappears. Again,” Claire points out, “Just awesome.”  
  
Cas wants to hug her, wants to tell her again how sorry he is. But she doesn't want him to, he knows that. This is all his fault.  
  
“You can stay here as long as you want,” he whispers. It's ridiculous. Claire hates him. And he actually has no idea how to take care of a child. But on the other hand, Claire is turning 18 in a few months, and finishes school. He can take care of a teenager.  
  
“And if you want to go to college,” he adds, “I will support you. If you want me to.”  
  
Her eyes widen in surprise.  
  
“It's the least I can do,” Cas says. But this seems to anger Claire again.  
  
“So you pity me,” she spits out the words as if they were poisonous.  
  
Cas wants to groan, but he gets it. He will never be able to make her happy. Or make her make hate him less.  
  
“You're wrong,” he hears himself say determined, “I do this because I’m indebted to you. I do this because I’m indebted to your mother. And I do this because I’m indebted to Jimmy.”  
  
Claire flinches at the name of her father, but Cas continues, “Don't think I do this out of pity. I'm doing this to redeem myself to you. I know this won't make your mother quit drinking. I know this won't bring Jimmy back. And I know I won't undo what I did in the past. But it's the least I can do make sure your future will be a better one.”  
Claire stares at him, and Cas feels guilty immediately. He should not have yelled. This is not Claire's fault. Cas tries his best to help, instead he just fucks up. Again.  
  
But before he can apologize, Claire already speaks.  
  
“Okay,” she says, “If you want to do this.”  
  
Cas nods, “You can stay in the guest room,” he tells her.  
  
“Thanks,” she says, and grabs her backpack moving to the guest room. It's not the first time she slept in there. As a child she used to visit Cas all the time. He misses those times. He finds himself wishing he could time travel.  
  
But that reminds Cas of something, and he rushes into his room. In the back of his closet is an old box. He grabs it and walks over to the guest room. Claire's room. He knocks on the door before he enters.  
  
Claire is sitting on the bed. Her boots and backpack are thrown into the corner. She looks misplaced in the room. The room is too white, too empty, too impersonal, like nobody lived in it for ages. It's not a room a teenager should live in. The walls should be colourful, filled with posters of celebrities. Not white and cold. It looked like a hospital room. The bookshelf should burst with horrible written series about vampires and post-apocalyptic worlds. Instead it’s empty. A thin layer of dust is on the single plank.  
  
“I- um, I have something for you,” Cas says, and puts the box on Claire's bed. He takes a stuffed animal out of it. It's an old, grumpy looking cat, “You used to play with this when you were little,” he says. Claire looks at him, waiting for him to make his point, “I thought you, maybe, might want to have it.”  
  
Cas places the animal on Claire's bed, and pushes the box towards her.  
  
“Those are pictures of your Dad. Well and me. Also a few books he liked to read.”  
  
This time interest flickers in Claire's eyes. She takes the box and grabs a few pictures.  
  
“I'll leave you alone now,” Cas slowly walks back to the door, “If you need anything, I'm in the living room, writing.”  
  
He is almost out of the door when Claire says something, “Why did you keep all this? Why did you keep his trench coat?”  
  
Cas freezes for a second before he answers, his back still to Claire. He can't look her in the eyes right now, “You lost your dad, and that is definitely the worst loss someone can have, I understand that. But you like to forget that I lost him, too. I know it's my fault. I ignored him when he needed me the most. And I have to live with the guilt and with his loss every day. For you I'm just the evil uncle who didn't donate his kidney to save your Dad. But I'm also the one who lost his twin brother.”  
  
He daren’t turn around. He walks out and closes the door. He wants to cry, but he can't. Instead he takes a few deep breaths, and tries to calm himself.  
  
Suddenly the door behind him opens and Claire comes out. Cas turns around in surprise. Claire walks straight forward and hugs him.  
  
“I'm sorry, Cas,” she whispers, and Cas can hear the tears in her voice, “And thank you for letting me stay here.”  
  
“It’s no problem,” he says, unable to believe what is happening.  
  
Afterwards Claire returns to her room, Cas is busy writing his book. He is so focused on his writing, he doesn't notice how fast the time passes. When he glances at his clock it's a quarter to two.  
  
Damn it, he thinks, Dean wanted to pick him up at 2pm.  
  
He wants to rush into Claire's room, but actually finds her in the kitchen, pushing some fries into the oven.  
  
"I was hungry. I hope this is okay,” she explains.  
  
“Yes, of course,” Cas answers, “I'm sorry for not having any vegetables. I'm going to go shopping tomorrow.”  
  
“You have ketchup. Ketchup’s a vegetable,” Claire says, and Cas can't tell if she is joking or being serious.  
  
“Well anyway,” he suddenly remembers why he was looking for her, “I promised Gabriel I’d be at his place soon. His boyfriend is moving in with him, and Dean will come and pick me up in a few minutes. You've got my phone number, and here’s some money. You can order take out, or buy something healthy in the store,” he says and places twenty bucks on the kitchen counter.  
  
“Oh, Dean comes and picks you up?” she says teasingly.  
  
“Yes, he does,” Cas confirms confused. Why is she asking, he wonders, “He’s a friend,” he adds.  
  
“More like boyfriend, I guess,” she says and Cas feels like someone set his cheeks on fire.  
  
“That's not how it is,” he says lamely. Well technically it's really not how it is. Dean is not his boyfriend. Yet. But after last night and this morning Cas feels like this might change. A smile creeps over his face.  
  
“But you smile when you think about him,” Claire counters. To Castiel's luck, Dean rings the bell at this exact moment.  
  
“I have to go, please don't burn down the house,” he says and hurries to get out of there. Saved by the bell, he thinks and chuckles.  
  
His entire body buzzes with excitement when he sees Dean waiting downstairs. He almost flings himself in Dean's arms and presses their lips together. Kissing as greeting, another first kiss. Cas never wants to miss that again. It's a bit more greedy than the goodbye kiss, a bit more tongue, a bit more hands exploring the body of the other.  
  
“We should get in the car,” Dean pants between kisses, “Or the others will get suspicious about why we’re so late and look so wrecked.”  
  
It's a valid point, but Cas doesn't want to stop kissing Dean. His lips taste sweet, and every they meet Cas' it's like a tiny electroshock goes through his body.  
  
But in the end they finally manage to get into the car and drive to Sam's dorm where they’re supposed to help pack things up.  
  
When they arrive, Sam and Jo are already done. Charlie sadly had to work that day and can't help, and Gabriel is packing in the apartment. There is also another woman. She has long brown hair, tan skin and a nice smile. A young boy is standing close to her. The moment he sees Dean though, he jumps up and down and runs towards Dean.  
  
“Dean, Dean!” he yells excited and the woman turns around to see Dean.  
  
The boy wraps his arms around Dean's hips when he reaches them, and Dean does the same.  
  
“Hey, Ben,” he says cheerily, “Long time no see, buddy.”  
  
“Hey Dean,” the woman is quickly right next to them, and the moment Ben lets Dean go, she wraps her arms around him. Dean presses a kiss on her cheek and says softly, “Hi Lisa.”  
  
It almost sounds like a sigh, and it makes Cas tense.  
  
“I thought you wanted to meet us in the bar?”  
  
“Yes, but then we thought we could help Sam as well,” she answers.  
  
Cas doesn't know why, but he decides he doesn't like Lisa. She hugs Dean way too long for his liking, and Dean looks far too relaxed in her arms. Jealousy grumbles in the pit of Cas' stomach, and he can't help but cough when Lisa and Dean still don't part. At least now they do.  
  
“Oh yeah, uhm, Lisa,” Dean finally says, “This is Cas, Gabriel's brother.” Cas feels a bit hurt, he is more than just Gabriel's brother. Of course Dean can't say This is Cas, the man I've been sleeping with for almost half a year now. And with whom I might am going to have a relationship with since we made love last night. But still, he could have said that Cas is his friend.  
  
“And Cas, this is Lisa, an old friend,” Dean finishes. Lisa shoots Dean a funny look, God knows why, before she shakes Cas' hand  
  
“Nice to meet you,” she says, her hand feels warm and pleasant.  
  
“Yes, pleasure,” Cas says more coldly than he intended to, but it doesn't look like Lisa even notices.  
  
Since Sam has finished packing while Lisa and Dean were having their lovely reunion they decide to drive to Gabriel's and now also Sam's place.  
  
“Can we drive with Dean and Cas in the impala?” Ben asks, smiling, and Cas might not like Lisa, but Ben is adorable, so Cas doesn't mind when Dean says yes.  
  
In the end Cas finds himself spending a lot time with Ben while everybody else is moving furniture, books and clothes. But nobody seems to mind, Dean and Lisa actually seem happy that someone takes care of Ben.  
  
Ben likes cars, classic rock, and despite his eight years, he’s already had a lot of girlfriends. He reminds Cas a lot of Dean. Maybe that's the reason why he really enjoys talking with Ben. He doesn't even notice how fast his friends work, and before Cas could actually help with anything, they’re done and are heading towards their favourite bar.  
  
It still bugs Cas how close Dean and Lisa seem to be, but at least Dean sits down right next to Cas. Lisa sits down on the other side of Dean, and Cas feels like crying. Why does this annoy him so much? So Dean is really close with an old friend and her son. Cas is really close with Balthazar, yet Dean doesn't seem to turn into a jealousy driven monster. But maybe it's because of their past. Dean being held too tight, and Cas holding everybody too loose. Dean doesn't get jealous because he isn’t possessive. Especially not after what Alistair had done to him, Cas realizes. He himself gets jealous and possessive very easily. He’s afraid to lose everybody. He’s afraid to lose Dean.  
  
  
“I'll go get the first round,” Dean announces and interrupts Cas' thoughts.  
  
“I'll come help you,” Lisa announces, and they both get up to get to the counter.  
  
Cas is already annoyed and that some stranger on the other corner of the bar is staring at Dean doesn't help. It's like everybody wants a piece of Dean today. Even though he belongs to Cas. He shakes his head, he should stop thinking so possessively.  
  
By now Charlie has joined them and sits right next to Cas. From all of Dean's friends, Cas likes her the best. She is nerdy, funny, and seems to like Cas ,too.  
  
So he feels safe to ask, “How exactly do those two know each other?”  
  
“You don't know?” Charlie seems surprised, “Dude it's one of the most epic love stories ever.”  
  
Cas feels like someone placed a mountain on top of his chest. He can’t breathe. Something cold is creeping through his veins, and his chest aches horribly.  
  
“They met nine years ago, you know, after Dean had his Alistair period. She fixed him, and they were deeply in love. Sometimes I still think they still are. I have no clue why they broke up in the first place,” Charlie keeps talking, but Cas just hears half of what she is saying. Nine years ago. His glance wanders to Ben. Ben who is so much like Dean. Who loves Dean so much. Who is eight years old. Nine years, nine years, it echoes through his mind. There is this ringing in his ears and his head starts to hurt. Yet it is nothing compared to the pain in his chest.  
He once wondered, how do you know if you are in love? Now the answer is simple. You know you're in love when your heart breaks into a million pieces.  
  
Cas knows this is it. The reason Dean will leave him for. It's not just Lisa, who according to Charlie is the perfect girl. It's also Ben, who is apparently Dean's son. This morning he was so sure he and Dean could end up in a relationship, but he was so blind. How could he expect Dean to love him when Lisa and Ben existed? Cas feels so stupid.  
  
“Excuse me please,” he says, “I think I need a bit fresh air.”  
  
He stands up and leaves. He can't sit next to Dean, knowing that Dean is head over heels in love with Lisa.  
  
Outside he leans against the wall, breathing in the fresh air of the night. Suddenly someone joins him.  
  
“Why did you disappear so fast?” Dean asks.  
  
Cas doesn't know if he should cry or laugh hysterically. I left because I didn't want to see you being in love with Lisa, he wants to shout into Dean's face. But he can't. He can't do this without revealing how much he loves Dean. He can't give Dean this satisfaction. Instead he goes for, “Why didn't you tell me about Lisa and Ben?”  
  
Dean blinks perplex for a few second, then Cas can see the realisation coming over Dean.  
  
“Lisa is the one who fixed me after Alistair,” Dean says calmly, but Cas can see his legs shaking, and feels guilty immediately.  
  
“I loved her very much, and she loved me. But we didn't work out, we weren't meant for each other. She and Ben still mean a lot to me, but the romantic part is in the past.”  
Dean cups Cas' face, and Cas can't take his eyes off Dean. There is pain in Dean's face, desperation, maybe even affection, “You need to believe me. The thing between Lisa and me is over. I swear. And I didn't tell you about it because I thought you would mind.”  
  
And Cas can't help but kiss Dean. How could Dean think Cas could possibly mind him having a child? Of course it's something big, and a lot of people mind if their new partner already have children. But Cas doesn't. He loves Dean, and nothing could ever change that.  
  
The one kiss ends with them making out in the back alley. Cas feels better. The jealousy is gone, it's replaced with the usual giddy feeling Dean gives Cas.  
  
“I should still go home though,” Cas says after they kissed some more, “I need to check if Claire is alright.”  
  
“Can I ask you something? Who is she and why do you help her?” Dean asks, his hands resting on Cas' hips, keeping him close.  
  
“It's complicated,” Cas hesitates, “but I’m letting her live at my place as long as she wants. And when she wants to go to college, I will support her,” he tells Dean.  
  
Dean frowns, but keeps silent. Instead he presses a kiss to the corner of Cas' mouth and mumbles, “I'll drive you.”  
  
Cas swears that one day he will tell Dean the entire truth.  
  
“Also I forgot my wallet in your bedroom,” Dean confesses, and Cas has to chuckle.  
  
But today Cas will enjoy whatever it is he and Dean are having.


	19. In which they can't catch a break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took me so long to update, I kinda had a writers block. But I am glad to tell you that I'm already halfway through the next chapter, so I might already update on Monday or Tuesday.  
> Anyway enjoy the new chapter :)

  
They should talk. They should talk as soon as possible. But Dean isn’t good at talking. He isn’t good at opening up, at confessions. He would rather swallow acid than bare his feelings, let himself become vulnerable.  
  
At least he used to ignore his feelings. He used to do, or not do, a lot of things. Until Cas showed up. Cas, who sneaked into his life and slowly turned everything upside down. Turned Dean upside down. Dean had tried to fight it, desperately didn't want to end up like this. Yet here he is, lazily making out with Cas outside of Cas' apartment. They’re exchanging sweet kisses. A pleasant tingling sensation is spreading across Dean's chest.  
  
God, he loves kissing Cas. Loves the short pecks, the gentle presses, the passionate biting. He loves it. Loves Cas.  
  
A reason why they should talk, but being pressed against Cas' door, their mouths melting together, it's so much better than talking.  
  
Dean feels like they just came from their first date, and now don't know if they should both go inside or not. Not that Dean would count hanging out with Cas and a few friends in a bar a date. If he takes Cas on a date, Dean would go with him into a nice, cozy burger restaurant because he knows how much Cas likes burgers. Dean would take Cas to the cinema and let Cas choose a documentary about bees or a sci-fi movie. Dean wouldn't watch a second of the movie. He would be busy staring at Cas.  
  
Afterwards Dean would drive Cas out of town, to a place where they would be alone and able to see the stars. Dean would wrap a blanket around Cas to keep him warm and Cas would probably point out the constellations.  
  
The idea makes Dean grin; he tries to stop it, but he can't. Cas gingerly kisses the corners of Dean's mouth.  
  
“What are you smiling about?” Cas asks Dean, tilting his head in his typical way. It pulls the corners of Dean’s lips higher.  
  
You.  
You make me happy.  
I love you.  
Go out with me, please.  
  
But of course Dean doesn't say what he really thinks. A dark, old, filthy hallway isn’t the best place to confess your undying love. So he shakes his head and answers, “Nothing.”  
  
Cas raises his eyebrows, but remains silent. Dean can't help but blush.  
  
“So- um, don't you- um wanna invite me in?” he tries to change the subject.  
  
Cas snorts before he presses another chaste kiss on Dean's lips.  
  
“I would,” he says between kisses,“but I have an exhausted teenager in there. And as much as I like to make you scream, I don't want her to be traumatized,” he jokes.  
  
Cas has a valid point, Dean can totally understand it. The day hasn’t been easy for Cas, Dean figures.  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Dean lowers his voice, “You should get some sleep. I'll call you.”  
  
“I'll count on that,” Cas smiles and gives Dean one last kiss. Dean is about to go when he remembers the actual reason why he went with Cas in the first place.  
  
“I still left my wallet in your bedroom though.”  
  
“Well in that case, would you like to come inside with me Dean Winchester?” Cas jokes.  
  
“Shut up,” Dean mumbles, but follows Cas inside.  
  
There’s still a light in the living room and in the kitchen, but no sign of Claire. On the small table in the living room lays a bunch of old pictures, a used plate is in the kitchen sink.  
  
“Just wait here, I’ll be back with your wallet as soon as I find it,” Cas says.  
  
Dean wants to protest, wants to tell Cas that he can help look, but then he realizes that being in Cas bedroom together would be really counterproductive because they wouldn’t actually get any searching done. Dean nods and sits down on the couch in the living room while Cas disappears to get his wallet.  
  
Bored, Dean looks at the pictures lying on the table. They’re old, mostly showing a young, little girl. Dean figures that the girl is Claire. He picks up a few pictures and goes through them. Sometimes there are little comments on the back of the pictures like “Claire's first day in kindergarten” or “Claire and her cat Officer Cuddlebuzz”.  
  
The pictures are endearing and Dean starts to wonder what happened to Claire that her smiling face turned so grumpy and annoyed. Of course she’s a teenager, but she looks happy in the pictures, and so does the woman, who seems to be her mother. They seem like the perfect family, so why would Claire's mother disappear?  
  
And then Dean actually notices that Claire's father is in none of the pictures.  
  
“Maybe he was the one who did something to them all,” Dean thinks. Then he takes the next picture and stops breathing.  
  
The picture shows a woman in a hospital bed. She looks tired and is holding a baby in her arms. Right next to her sits Cas, on arm resting on the woman's shoulder, the other one gently stroking the baby's head. On the back of the picture it says “New born Claire with her proud parents”.  
  
Dean turns the picture back and for, trying to process this new information. This can't be can it? On the other hand it would make sense. The same blue eyes, the same head tilt. Claire going to Cas when she is in trouble. Cas being willing to pay her college. It only leads Dean to one conclusion. It’s in this exact moment when Cas enters the room.  
  
“Hey, I found your wallet.”  
  
“Are you Claire's father?”  
  
Their words are overlapping. The wallet drops out of Cas' hand and falls to the floor, the sound of its impact cutting through the silence.  
  
“What?” Cas finally asks.  
  
“Are you Claire's father?” Dean repeats his question calmly. Cas furrows his brows and he looks so lost, Dean wants to hug him and apologize he ever asked. But he needs answers. But also Dean needs his own answers.  
  
Would he be okay with Cas having a child? Usually Dean would. He loves kids. But there is something about Claire. Dean doesn't know why her mother is on a bender, why Cas isn’t living with the both of them, or why Cas has never mentioned his daughter. The possibility that Cas is ashamed of having a daughter bothers Dean more than the actual possibility that Cas has a daughter.  
  
“How... I don't even kn- why would you think that?” Cas finally says, his face still confused.  
  
“Because of this,” Dean says harsher than he actually wanted to, and pulls out the picture of Claire, her mother and Cas.  
  
Cas blinks a few times and stares at the picture. Then he says, “That is not me.” He voice is sounding numb and somehow wrecked. It's even worse than when he told Dean about Meg. But still, does he think that Dean is stupid? Rage comes up in Dean.  
  
“Bullshit, Cas,” he yells, “I can clearly see you in this picture. Sure you look younger, but how stupid do you think I am?”  
  
Cas flinches at Dean's sudden aggression. Dean would feel guilty or sorry, but he’s too pissed right now. So first Cas doesn't care about his daughter. Then he lies to  
  
Dean and instead of admitting that Claire is his daughter, he thinks that Dean is stupid enough to believe this stupid lie.  
  
“It's not me. The one in the picture,” Cas' voice is low and he looks at the floor,” it's not me.”  
  
“Well who is it then? You're clone? A doppelgänger? A shape-shifter?” Dean cries out.  
  
Cas opens his mouth, but closes it again. He still doesn't look Dean in the face and it angers Dean just more.  
  
“So if it's not you, Cas, then who the fuck is this?”  
  
“My dad,” Claire suddenly says.  
  
Both Dean and Cas jerk around. On the other end of the room, she stands, dressed in pyjamas, her grumpy cat in her arms, her eyes filled with sleep. She looks younger, more vulnerable. It's such a difference to this morning when Dean met her. She isn’t defensive or pissed, not hesitating. She actually looks like a child.  
  
Dean wants to yell at her, that he is aware that the person in the picture is her Dad, but he can't. He can't yell at a young, damaged girl, who just woke up. Woke up because he was making a lot of noises. Now Dean feels guilty.  
  
“But I guess you already figured out, that it's my dad,” Claire continues to speak, “My Dad. Not Cas. Cas is my uncle.”  
  
To say that Dean is confused would be a major understatement. He was able to understand that Cas had a child and that this child was Claire. But now, now he is lost.  
  
“But how?” to his own surprise, he manges to ask, “I don't understand.”  
  
“Obviously not,” Claire huffs annoyed.  
  
“Claire,” Cas warns her, but she just rolls her eyes, “I have this under control.”  
  
“Yeah, I heard how much you have this under control,” she deadpans, “But I guess since it's your boyfriend, it's your job to tell him. Not mine.”  
  
“Thanks,” Cas says and Claire rolls her eyes once more.  
  
“Yeah, just do it quieter,” she says and starts to walk away, “I'm off to bed.”  
  
Dean still stares at them, still not able to understand anything. What the hell is even going on.  
  
“Could you… could you please explain this?” he asks Cas.  
  
Cas nods. “Sit down,” he tells Dean and points towards the couch, and Dean does. He expects Cas to sit down right next to him, but Cas doesn't. Instead, he walks over to his desk, opens a drawer and pulls out a framed picture. Then he walks back do Dean, sits down right next to him, and hands Dean the frame. Dean looks at the picture and once again his confusion grows.  
  
Two pair of blue eyes look in the camera, belonging to two exact identical looking, young boys. It's obvious that one of them is Cas, which would mean the other would be Cas' twin  
  
“The man in the picture,” Cas starts to explain, “is Jimmy. He was my twin.”  
  
Dean's head shoots up. Cas still doesn't look directly at him. Instead, his eyes are fixed on the picture in Dean's hand.  
  
“As you know I am a foster kid. Our parents died when we were young, and Jimmy and I were tossed from family to family until we got stuck with the Miltons. The people who are still my family today. They loved us and we loved them, but Jimmy was really the only real family I had. For years we were inseparable. Then we both grow up, went to different colleges, met different people. Of course we always held contact. Then in his first year in college, he met Amelia, and they fell in love. A year later they got married and nine months later, my niece Claire was born. I took this picture.”  
  
Cas pauses, his voice is shaky, his fists clench around the edge of the couch. Dean wants to say something, but he has no clue what. Now he might know that Claire is not Cas' daughter, but he still has no idea what happened to her, or why Cas didn't tell Dean earlier.  
  
“And while Jimmy was happily building his family, I met Meg. You know the story. The thing is,” Cas stops and takes a sharp breath, “The thing is,  while I ignored my entire family Jimmy got sick. He had needed a new kidney, but there was no donator who matched. So he tried to call me, he reached out for me. He told me that it's important. And I didn't care. I ignored it and I... I... I let him die,” Cas entire body is shaking by now. His voice is nothing more than a whisper and finally Dean wraps his arms around Cas.  
  
“I let him die, and destroyed Claire's and Amelia's lives.”  
  
Dean feels like the biggest asshole in creation. He presses Cas against his chest, and kisses his temple.  
  
“It's okay, Cas,” Dean tries to soothe him, “It's okay.”  
  
“It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault,” Cas repeats it like he’s in trance, Dean’s words don't even reach through to him.  
  
“Cas, hey, hey, Cas. Listen to me,” Dean shakes him slightly, and Cas finally looks up, finally looks Dean in the eyes, “If this is anyone’s fault, it's Meg's. Okay Cas? Let someone who’s been in an abusive relationship, too, tell you it's not your fault. You were a victim. There is nothing you could have done. Okay?”  
  
Cas slowly stops shaking, and then nods.  
  
“Good,” Dean says relieved.  
  
He lies back on the couch and pulls Cas with him. They just lie there, cuddled together, breathing in sync.  
  
“I'm sorry I yelled at you,” Dean says.  
  
“Don't apologize,” Cas mumbles against Dean's chest, “I get it. You thought I had a child and were upset.”  
  
There is a certain sadness in his words, and Dean hurries to say, “It wouldn't bother me if Claire really were your child. I love children. I just thought you had abandoned her, or were ashamed of her. And then when I thought you lied to me, I got angry. I should have let you talk first. I'm sorry I was such an ass.”  
  
“It's okay,” Cas replies and shifts closer to Dean.  
  
After a few minutes of silence Cas speaks again, “Dean?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“Can I ask you something?”  
  
“Anything.”  
  
“You weren’t the only one wondering about potential children,” Cas pauses as if he’s trying to gather the courage to continue his question, “Is Ben your son?”  
Dean snorts. He would say he is surprised, but Cas is not the first one to ask the question. He isn’t even surprised that Cas asked in the first place. Cas spent a lot of time with Ben, and Dean knows how chatty his friends can be.  
  
“I asked myself the same question when I first met him,” he says and tries to sound a bit joking. They had enough drama for one day. “But no, he isn't. I know we are very much alike, but he is not my son.”  
  
“Okay,” Cas replies and they both fall silent again.  
  
“You know it wouldn't have bothered me too,” Cas says at one point, “if he had been your son.”  
  
Dean just hums, trying to hide how much this means to him. This would be the perfect moment. The perfect moment to say those three, little words. To ask for more. Dean opens his mouth, but then chickens out. This is too perfect to be ruined. Dean knows it's greedy, and selfish, and hell they really need to talk. But right now he rather wants to enjoy being close to Cas than having more emotional drama.  
  
The clock across the room tells Dean it’s 3 AM.  
  
“I should probably get going,” he tells Cas, and Cas nods, but still they remain tangled together for at least another half hour.  
  
It's almost four when Dean goes home. He’s exhausted, but glad he knows more about Cas. He’s glad that he and Cas were able to fix things. There’s nothing they can't manage, he thinks and laughs. Then his phone buzzes.  
  
   
  
 **We forgot to buy them a present.**

**i still have a waffle iron gonna give it 2 them 2morrow**

**Dean.**

**k we can go buy them something 2morrow**

**You mean today. It is already past midnight.**

**yada yada shut up and go to bed u nerd**

**Sleep well, Dean.**

**u2** _I love you_

  
   
  
Of course Dean doesn't send the last words as well. The thought of going shopping again with Cas makes him smile. He almost doesn't notice the red rose lying on his door mat. Probably his new, blond neighbour, Dean thinks. She tried to flirt with him since she moved in last week. He picks it up and puts it on the kitchen counter. It's a nice gesture, but Dean couldn't care less. He decides he’s going to tell her politely the next time he sees her. He moves to his bedroom to change into his sweatpants.  
  
The doors of his closet are already open.Weird, he could have sworn he closed his closet this morning. Apparently he didn't. With a shrug Dean moves to his bathroom, brushes his teeth and goes to bed. He can't wait for tomorrow.  
  



	20. In which pizza and panties happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I managed to keep my promise and update on Thuesday, yay :)  
> I also rewrote some chapters, no big plot changes though. I just put some more punctation marks in the text.  
> Anyway enjoy the new chapter :)

  
Dean sleeps restlessly that night. He always sleeps better when he shares a bed with Cas, but tonight it's even worse than usual. He doesn't have any nightmares, but he feels unsafe. His eyes are closed, and he’s half asleep as he shifts from one side to another.  
  
Suddenly, he hears a sigh-like noise, and something soft slides over his cheek. Dean jumps up, his heart beating fast, sweat running down his forehead.  
  
What the hell, he wonders. In panic his throat tightens. Dean has trouble breathing. Anxiously, his eyes wander through the dark room. He is alone. Not seconds ago, he felt like someone was in the room with him.  
  
He pads out of his bed and tiptoes to the door of his room. He presses on ear against it and harkens. Nothing. His apartment is silent. Almost too silent.  
Dean shakes his head; he’s read too many crime novels.  
  
He opens the door and peeks through the small gap. Nothing. Just the darkness of his empty apartment. Dean holds his breath before he decides to step out of his room. He turns is head in all directions, trying to see every part of his surroundings.  
  
The blood rushes through his ears, and his heart beats so loud Dean is sure if there is someone else with him, they can hear it as well.  
  
Tense, he sneaks to his front door, afraid someone might jump him any second. When he reaches his front door, and sees that it’s locked Dean starts to relax.  
It's the stress of the last days that made him become paranoid, Dean thinks. It must have been a vivid dream. When he enters his bedroom again, he sees that the window is open. It could have been a chilly wisp of wind. Yawning, he walks towards the window and closes it.  
  
A glance at the clock tells Dean that it's 7 AM. That means he’s only slept for three hours. He needs at least four. He tiredly crawls back into bed.  
  
When he wakes up three hours later, he’s already forgotten his panic attack this morning. What he hasn't forgotten is that he wanted to go shopping with Cas.  
Dean grabs his phone, eager to write Cas.  
  
 

**Hey so when do you wanna go shopping?**

**I'm really sorry, but Gabriel forces me to go meet a new publisher.**

**Monday then?**

**Monday sounds good.**  
  
Dean tries not to be disappointed that Cas doesn’t have no time. The guy has to work after all. Dean could hang out with Sam, but Sam is probably busy banging Gabriel all over their apartment, and gross, Dean doesn't want to think about it. So he decides to spend his Sunday on his couch, watching TV, doing nothing. But on the other hand, he could finally clean his apartment. He had planned doing this for a long time, but never had time.  
  
He scrubs his bathroom and kitchen floor, polishes the windows and organizes old mail. He decides to do laundry as well, grabs a basket full of it and moves into the cellar, where the washing machines are.  
  
He throws his dirty clothes inside, turns the machine on, sits down and pulls out his favourite book by Cas. After a while he notices that somebody joined him. When Dean looks up, he spots his new neighbour. She has long, blonde hair and a cute smile, even though her mouth seems too big for Dean's liking.  
  
“Hi, I don't think we’ve met. I'm Dean,” he introduces himself.  
  
“Nice to meet you. I'm Lilith,” she says and blushes. “You live in apartment 3B, right?” she asks.  
  
Dean nods.  
  
“I live in 4B, right above you,” she continues, the flush on her face brightening, “It’s my first time living alone. I shared an apartment with my brother before.”  
  
“And how are you doing?” Dean asks.  
  
“Okay. But I feel lonely from time to time,” she answers and sits down next to Dean. “What about you?”  
  
“I live alone as well.”  
  
“Oh, nobody in your life, then,” she assumes and moves closer. There is a hint of excitement in her voice.  
  
Yup, definitely the one who left him the rose, Dean thinks.  
“Well to be honest, there is someone in my life,” he says, “We just don't live together.”  
“Oh,”Lilith says, and then she goes silent.  
  
They stop talking from there, and Dean returns to reading his book. He doesn't even notice Lilith leaving.  
  
When his laundry is finished he walks back into his apartment and starts putting his washed clothes in his closet. At some point his wrist brushes against a pile of boxers by accident, and they fall out of the closet.  
  
With a groan, he kneels down to pick them up when he sees it. Right between his plaid boxers lies a pair of pink, satin panties.  
  
Odd, he thinks. Usually his panties are in the drawer right under the one with his toys. He probably didn't pay enough attention when he sorted his underwear in.  
  
He picks up the panties to put it back into his drawer when he has an idea. He opens the top drawer, takes out his pink vibrator and places the toy and the panties on his bed. Then he takes a picture and sends it to Cas.

**You're missing something**

He types with a grin on his face, and even though Cas should be at his meeting, Dean's phone buzzes few minutes later.

**I want you to wear them and fuck yourself with the toy**

**That was the plan**

Dean hurries to strip out of his clothes and puts on the panties. He loves the feeling of the soft satin on his skin. He glances into his mirror, admiring how the panties hug his curves, then he lies down on his bed. His cock is already leaking and Dean rubs it through the pink fabric before he takes out the lube to open himself up.  
  
Slowly he circles his rim with one finger before he pushes in. When he adds a second finger, and brushes against his prostate, he can't help but whimper. Just when he decides that he’s prepped himself enough to insert the toy Cas calls him.  
  
“Hey Cas,” Dean almost moans after he puts the phone on speaker. He’s circling his rim with the tip of the vibrator by now.  
  
 _“Are you touching yourself?”_ Cas asks. His voice sounds different, somehow distorted. The reception is probably bad, Dean figures.  
  
“I was just about to use the vibrator,” he tells Cas and slowly pushes the tip of the toy past the first ring of muscles. A moan escapes his lips.  
  
 _“Let me hear you,”_ Cas almost purrs.  
  
And Dean does. He starts thrusting the toy inside, panting hard. With his other hand he starts stroking his hard cock through his panties.  
  
“Ughhhh Cas,” Dean moans. His moaning turns into a cry of pleasure when he turns the vibrator on and presses it against his prostate. Dean bites his lip and closes his eyes, his entire body tensing up.  
  
“Can't wait for you to fuck me again,” he babbles while he fucks himself faster and faster. “Need you inside me. Feel so empty.”  
  
The thought of Cas fucking him brings Dean close to the edge. He groans and whines, desperate for Cas' touch. On the other end of the line he only hears heavy breathing. The vibrator buzzes against his prostate without mercy and his swollen cock is almost uncomfortably pressing against the fabric of his panties. Dean puts the toy on a higher setting and picks up his pace. The sensation makes him throw his head back against his mattress and with a cry he comes.  
  
He lies there in his bed, reaching for air. His pretty panties are covered in cum and the vibrator is now buzzing against Dean's sheets.  
  
“That was awesome,” Dean mumbles, “How about I wear the panties the next time you come over?”  
  
Cas doesn't answer. When Dean picks up his phone he sees that Cas has ended a call.  
  
He probably had to hurry back to his meeting, Dean thinks.  
  
He remains in his bed for a moment before he gets up and showers. The rest of the day he spends on his couch watching TV.

*********

  
Cas is grumpy. This day sucks. First of all he wakes up in an empty bed. He used to sleep alone, but since he met Dean Cas craves a warm body next to him in the morning.  
  
But he tries to focus on going shopping with Dean.  
  
“I can't wait to see him,” he thinks. But then he remembers Claire and that maybe he should spend some time with her.  
  
When he walks into the kitchen she’s already sitting at the counter in the middle of the kitchen and drinking coffee.  
  
“Good morning, Claire,” Castiel greets her and takes a cup of coffee as well.  
  
“Morning,” she mumbles.  
  
“Have you eaten something? Breakfast is very important,” Cas asks.  
  
Claire lifts her eyebrows and points behind her at Cas' fridge, “I don't know if you’ve noticed, but your fridge is like Antarctica. Cold and empty.”  
  
“Right,” Cas remembers, he already didn't have any food when Claire arrived.  
  
“I'm sorry,” he apologizes, “I will go grocery shopping right Monday morning.”  
  
Claire nods and then focuses on her coffee.  
  
They both just sit there in silence. It's awkward and Cas desperately tries to find something to talk about.  
  
“We could also drive to your old flat and take some of your belongings so you decorate your room here. Also you need more clothes,” he says after a while.  
Claire snorts.  
  
  
“Castiel, my mom’s spending all her money on alcohol an hasn't been home in ages. Do you think anyone paid rent? I don't have an old home, or room, or stuff that belongs to me,” she says bitterly.  
  
Cas feels so unbelievably guilty. He wants to hug her, but knows she doesn't want him to.  
  
“Then we can make a trip to IKEA on Monday. And Hot Topical,” he suggests and Claire widen in surprise. “But only if you want to,” he adds.  
  
“Yeah...uhm sure,” she stutters.  
  
Cas gives her a shy smile and then they’re both silent again. Claire finishes her coffee first and stands up to leave the kitchen.  
  
“Do you have any plans for today?” Cas hurries to ask.  
  
“As much as I appreciate everything you're doing, you don't have to play babysitter, Castiel,” she says and then leaves.  
  
Cas sighs. Maybe he can still spend his day with Dean. But then Gabriel calls Cas to inform him that he found a new publisher for his little brother. And he wants to meet Cas today. With an annoyed groan Cas agrees to meet with this publisher.  
  
He writes Claire a note and leaves some money so she can order food is she gets hungry.  
  
He is almost out of the house when Dean texts him, asking when Cas wants to go shopping Cas replies that he sadly has to go to this meeting and can't go shopping.  
He has to take the subway to get to the building of the publisher because there is absolutely not space for parking. Cas hates the subway, he doesn't like crowded, small places. At one point a guy even falls against Cas. He smells like cigarettes and gin, and has grabby hands trying to steady himself on Cas. Cas tries not no gag.  
The only good thing is that this publisher is nice. His name is Chuck Shurley and he seems really happy to work with Cas. He is totally on board with Damien and Nathaniel being endgame and makes good suggestions. He’s the complete opposite of the publishers Cas had met before. He’s not wearing a suit, doesn’t try to show his dominance, and isn’t the biggest narcissist there is. It is a pleasant change.  
  
Still, Cas has problems to focus on. His thoughts revolve around Claire the entire time. He still needs to find her a school, and maybe she has some hobbies she wants to do again. He also thinks about the way they could make her room look more like her room and not like a prison cell. He also thinks about Claire's old friends. Maybe she wants to visit them. And maybe not just them. Maybe she wants to visit her mother in rehab as well. Cas decides to ask her about it when he returns home.  
He spends the entire day at Chuck's, telling about his ideas, discussing plotlines and character development. He is really exhausted when he enters the subway 12 hours later again. It's emptier than this morning, but still someone manages to fall against Cas again. The same biting smell meets Cas. He decides to avoid the subway from now on.  
  
When he enters his apartment, Claire is sitting in the living room, watching TV and eating pizza.  
  
“Oh hey,” she greets him, “I ordered you one too.” She points towards the kitchen and Cas spots another pizza box on the kitchen counter.  
  
“I called you because I didn't know what you would want. But since you didn't answer I just went with Magaritha,” she adds.  
  
“Thanks,” Cas says and pulls out his phone, “I had my phone in my jacket the entire time. I guess I didn't hear you call.”  
  
When he scrolls through his call list he sees Claire's name right after Gabriel's. He is a bit disappointed that Dean didn't text, but he probably didn't want to disturb Cas' meeting.  
  
With a satisfied sigh, he sits down next to Claire and eats the pizza.  
  
“What exactly are we watching?” he asks her.  
  
“A show about monster hunters,” she says, “Now shhh, it's the series finale and I hope that this one guy and his best friend finally get together. Their sexual tension has been killing everybody since season 4.  
  
Cas chuckles. He likes how Claire seems like an ordinary teenager right now. No tragic backstory, no broken family. Just a normal teenager enjoying a TV show and its fictional characters. Cas finishes his pizza happily.


	21. In which your otp builds an Ikea closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took me so long, school was a bitch.  
> Apparetnly I already scared some readers away with the new darkness, I apologize if you didn't expect it, neither did I, I never wanted to write so much angst. Uhm...there is more to come, but please don't forget, those are my babies as well and I love them and I would never hurt them (that much)  
> So here is the new chapter, enjoy :)

  
Cas thought he knew Hell. He’s been through a lot in his life, but all that was nothing compared to the horror he’s going through now. He’s sweating. His feet hurt, and he’s completely lost. The bright light is giving him a headache; he’s struggling to breathe in the thick air, and he feels like he’s about to murder someone. Cas has never been more sure: shopping at Ikea is Hell.  
  
All of Monday morning is being spent following Claire and Dean around the shop. He’s looked at thousands of pieces of furniture, and he’s gotten lost in one of the aisles.  
  
The burning sun outside doesn't make the experience more pleasurable since the air condition seems to be broken. Nor does the mass of sweating people pressing against Cas.  
  
Why are so many goddamn people here? he wonders. It's Monday. Shouldn't they be at work?  
  
On the other hand, he, Dean, and Claire are here as well. But Dean is on vacation, Claire’s first day of school for the next school year is in a week, and Cas can work whenever he wants.  
  
Dean only joined them so that he and Cas can finally buy a gift for Sam and Gabriel. So far they considered an ugly lamp that looks a lot like candy wrapper, an expensive looking vase for 10 bucks, and a curtain with moose all over it. Of course, those are all just jokes. Cas is getting desperate, and at this point he’s considering just giving his brother another waffle iron.  
  
Claire is more successful. She finds a new closet with a mirror as a door, a comfortable armchair, and a painting.  
  
Cas could use a break right about now. He feels like someone is watching him, and immediately remembers the last time he and Dean went shopping. He starts to get anxious. What if Meg is here? he thinks. Cas doesn't want her to meet Claire. It is bad enough that Meg knows about Dean.  
  
His palms are even sweatier now, and the fake smell of home at Ikea makes Cas want to vomit. He has had this weird, uneasy feeling since yesterday. He blames it on the subway. There are way too many people in such a small place. No wonder he wants to get out of this shop so badly.  
  
He wants to ask if they can leave already, but it occurs to him that Claire or Dean might find something they desperately need or want, so he says nothing and suffers in silence.  
  
Suddenly there is a hand soothingly pressed against his back and Cas looks up into Dean's sympathetic eyes.  
  
“Hey, how about we move to the checkout, and then have a bite to eat? I'm starving,” Dean says and Cas has never been so thankful in his life.  
Claire shrugs and follows them.  
  
On their way out Dean whispers, “Are you alright?”  
  
No, I'm not. I'm worried I’ll screw up things with Claire. I still feel guilty about it, and don't know what to do. I haven't even told Gabriel that she’s here. I'm stressed because I just changed my publisher and have a lot of work to do, I have no clue what we are, and we need to talk, but I am scared, Cas wants to say. Instead he just answers, “Yeah I'm fine,” he gestures to the sky and adds, “Just not used to this heat.”  
  
“That’s really surprising considering how hot you are,” Dean says.  
  
Cas blinks, perplexed, before he starts laughing. Dean joins him.  
  
“That... was... the worst pun ever,” Cas pants between his laughter. Dean gives him a smile.  
  
“That's the reason you’re the writer, not me,” he says.  
  
Cas wants to respond with something witty, but before he can do so, Claire yells, “Hey, are you two coming?”  
  
They put the furniture in Dean's car (“I'm not driving to Ikea in this pimp car of yours,” Dean had said), and then eat hot dogs for lunch.  
  
Afterwards they spend two more hours shopping, this time wanting to find some clothes for Claire. Now Dean is the one who looks like he could use a break. Cas is rather interested in what kind of clothes Claire prefers to wear.  
  
“Can't we just give her a plaid shirt and jeans?” Dean mutters and Cas shoots him a look.  
  
“Dean!”  
  
“I'm kidding,” Dean hurries to say. Cas rolls his eyes, but can't help and smile. They’re standing close, arms constantly brushing against each other while Claire walks through the store, collecting all kinds of clothes. Mostly black shorts, a few tops and one shirt about this show she watched yesterday.  
  
“Okay, I'm done,” she announces after a while.  
  
“Don't you want to tr-” Cas is interrupted when Dean elbows him in the ribs, “Ouch, that hurt, Dean.”  
  
“Sorry, babe. But neither Claire nor I would survive a fashion show right now,” Dean apologizes.  
  
“I'm definitely with Dean,” Claire says, and Dean give Cas a shit-eating grin.  
  
“Let's get going then,” Dean says, and Claire already walks towards the checkout.  
  
Cas stands in the middle of the store, staring at Dean. Did Dean notice what he just called Cas? And if he did, did he do it on purpose?  
  
“You comin' Cas?” Dean rips Cas out of his thoughts.  
  
With a warm tingling inside his gut, Cas walks over to Claire and Dean. When they reach the checkout, Dean's eyes widen in surprise.  
  
“Lilith?” he asks the blonde sales girl behind the check out, “I didn't know you were working here.”  
  
“Oh, hi Dean,” she says with a smile, “Well there’s still a lot you could find out about me,” she adds with a wink.  
  
Cas cringes. The warm tingling is replaced by bitter jealousy. Possessively, he takes a step closer to Dean and almost growls, “We would like to buy these.”  
Lilith nods taken by surprise and starts scanning Claire's clothes. Cas sees Claire raise an eyebrow and he already regrets his behaviour. He is not a damn child anymore. Dean is allowed to talk with whoever he wants.  
  
But he was not talking, he was flirting, a tiny voice says in his head. Cas tries to ignore it.  
  
When they step outside the store, they’re greeted with a heat wave. The sun is burning, there’s no wind and Cas has never been more glad that he chose today to wear shorts. Claire seems to have the same thought. Only Dean is standing right next to them in a long jeans, a plaid shirt and boots. How he didn't have a heat stroke by now is a mystery to Cas.  
  
“How do you survive in those? Have you ever heard of shorts?” Claire asks Dean, trying to fan herself some cold air.  
  
“Oh sweetheart, I don't do shorts,” Dean snorts, but goes silent the moment Claire gives him an angry look.  
  
“Not your sweetheart, honey,” she snaps.  
  
“Not your honey, kiddo.”  
  
“Not your kid-”  
  
“Enough,” Cas ends their little fight, “get in the car. I'm getting a headache.”  
  
Dean makes a winning face at Claire, who mumbles some not-so-nice things under her breath.  
  
“You too, Dean,” Cas says wearily.  
  
“But she started,” Dean exclaims and Cas sighs.  
  
“I don't care, just get in the car.”  
  
“But...”  
  
“Dean!”  
  
“Okay, okay,” Dean hurries to get in the car. Now Claire is the one making a funny face at him.  
  
 

*********

Dean is really glad when they finally arrive at Cas' apartment. The day has been really exhausting. Shopping at Ikea had been fun, but Dean could have passed shopping at Hot Topic. He is relieved, though, that they finally found a gift for Gabriel and Sam. They decided against a waffle iron and went with a coffee maker. Also, he regrets not wearing shorts, but he would never admit it of course.  
  
Now he is currently sitting on the floor of Claire's room, staring at the vague instruction how to build an Ikea closet. Cas and Claire seem as lost as Dean.  
“Is this part A or part D? And how am I supposed to put part C in slot 2?” Cas mutters. After 15 minutes they think they might have figured out which part is belongs where.  
  
“You know what, I let you two do the building while I go grocery shopping. That's what we forgot to do,” Claire announces and gets up. Dean can't blame her for not wanting to build this stuff.  
  
They eventually manage, though. The armchair was easier to build than the closet, but in the end, both stand. The closet is only missing the doors, which turns out is the hardest part to add. Cas and Dean both stand in front of it, the heavy doors in their hands, desperately trying to push the door inside when a horrible crack comes from the closet.  
  
“I am done,” Cas hisses.  
  
  
“Damn it, Cas. We can fix this,” Dean grunts under the weight of the door.  
  
“Dean, it's not broken!” Cas exclaims.  
  
“What are you talking about, didn't you hear the crack?” Dean asks angrily.  
  
Cas rolls his eyes, gives the door a push and takes Dean's hands away from it.  
  
“What the hell are you do-” Dean starts, but then he sees that the door is perfectly attached to the closet.  
  
“I told you I was done,” Cas mutters.  
  
“I told you I was done,” Dean parrots.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“Make me!”  
  
And Cas does because suddenly there are two, soft lips on Dean's and Dean finds himself pinned against the wall behind him. Greedily, his tongue licks inside Dean's mouth and Dean's hands tug on Cas' messy hair. Their hips are grinding against each other and Dean feels like a horny teenager all over again.  
  
He realizes that this would actually be the perfect time to talk, to see what they are. But making out with Cas is just so much more tempting.  
  
The sound of a closing door breaks them apart.  
  
“I'm back,” Claire yells from the kitchen and Cas and Dean hurry to arrange their clothes. And not a second too soon because a moment later, Claire is standing inside the room.  
  
“You made it,” she says with a grin, “Come on, I brought you some cupcakes as a reward.”  
  
She turns around and waves them to follow her.  
  
“Oh and don't think I didn't notice that you were about to dry hump in my room,” she adds and Dean feels himself blush. He glances over at Cas, who's face is burning red as well.  
  
Awkwardly, they sit down in the living room, each with a cupcake in their hands. Dean hadn't realized how hungry he was until now. The cupcakes smell delicious, which is no surprise considering that they’re from the best bakery in town. Before he can take the first bite, the doorbell rings.  
  
“We can't have peace for one minute,” Cas grumbles and gets up to open the door.  
  
“Heya Cassie,” a familiar voice comes from the door, followed by a “Do I smell Heaven's cupcakes?”  
  
“Right now is not the best time, Gabriel,” Dean hears Cas hiss. He doesn't even notice that Claire gets up and open the door of the living room until he hears her say, “Uncle Gabe?”  
  
“Claire?”  
  
Of course now Cas has to let Gabriel inside and Dean sees how he and Claire share a warm hug. He notices how Claire calls Gabriel “Uncle Gabe”, but Cas is always just “Castiel”. Dean can see that Cas is slightly hurt and want's nothing more than to walk over and wrap his arms around Cas. But he can't. Gabriel doesn't know what's going on between them, hell even they themselves don't really know what's going on.  
  
“Dean-o, what are you doing here,” Gabriel asks when he notices Dean on the couch.  
  
“Cas and I bought a gift for you and Sam,” he explains, “Which reminds me, where exactly is my brother?”  
  
“Oh he has to study for an exam, and before I annoy him, I thought I should come and annoy my little brother,” Gabriel says, “Who didn't tell me that Claire was visiting.”  
  
He glances at Cas, who definitely feels uncomfortable right now.  
  
“I was going to mention it,” he mumbles.  
  
“Also I'm not visiting, I'm living here now,” Claire adds.  
  
“You what? Why are you living here? And why didn't you tell me, Castiel?” Gabriel's voice is concerned and angry. This is Dean's cue to leave. Cas has a lot to explain to his brother and to discuss and as long as Dean doesn't know what exactly he is for Cas, he feels like he should leave. Cas probably doesn't even want him here.  
  
“I should get going,” he announces, “I still have a lot to do.”  
  
Cas nods, understanding, there is some sadness in his eyes, though, “I'll walk you to the door,” he says.  
  
“Call me when all this is over,” Dean says at the door, and after he makes sure that Gabriel can't see them from the living room, he presses a quick peck against Cas' lips.  
  
“I will,” Cas whispers, a sad smile on his lips.  
  
Dean feels like Cas wants to add something. Something like Please don't leave, or, I know you have stuff to do, but I wish you could stay. But Cas doesn't. He just says, “Goodbye Dean,” and closes the door.  
  
Dean decides he definitely prefers Cas saying Hello Dean.  
  
   
  
When Dean gets home, he decides to check his mail before he walks upstairs to his apartment. He is about to open his mailbox when suddenly a familiar voice says, “Hello stranger.”  
  
He turns around to spot Lilith, who walks inside, a big smile plastered over her face.  
  
“Hey Lilith,” Dean says, “already back from work?”  
  
“Yeah, my shift was finished shortly after you left. And then I had dinner with my brother . He’s parking the car,” she tells him, “Do you have any plans for tonight?”  
  
“Not really, I'm gonna watch some TV I guess,” Dean says and opens his mailbox. There are some bills and a postcard from Bobby and Crowley.  
  
And then Dean can't breathe anymore. The air is knocked out of his lungs, and cold sweat is running down his spine at the image: down at the bottom of his mail box lies a bunch of pictures of Dean. And not any pictures.  
  
“Dean, are you okay?” he hears Lilith ask and he presses the pictures against his chest.  
“Fine,” he mumbles, “Gotta go.”  
  
He walks past her and climbs up the stairs, his heart beating furiously, his lungs not completely working again.  
  
The pictures show Dean in panties fucking himself on his vibrator. It's not the one picture he sent Cas with his phone. No, the pictures were taken at different times, showing Dean's entire process of jerking off.  
  
He sprints the last stairs and locks the door behind him as soon as he is in his apartment. Panic rushes through his body. Neither his breath or his heart beat slow down as he presses himself against the door.  
  
How is this even possible?, he wonders. The pictures were clearly taken in his room, but there is no way in hell someone was in the room with Dean. He sinks down and pulls his knees up to his chest.  
  
Suddenly there is a noise and Dean jerks up. It comes out of his bedroom and sounds like a moan.  
  
Dean freezes for a moment before he sneaks into his kitchen, grabs a knife, and then slowly moves towards his bedroom.  
  
His body is trembling with anxiety, his inside ice cold. Panic is spreading from his stomach into his entire body, making his arms and legs feel heavy. The closer he gets to his bedroom and the louder the moaning and panting becomes, the more difficult is it for Dean to move. He feels like he is turning into stone, unable to move, an intruder in his own apartment.  
  
He is only inches away from the door, he takes a last deep breath and kicks it open.  
  
His bedroom is empty, there is nobody in it. All there is, is a tiny projector pointing towards a wall. It projects a video. It's Dean masturbating with his blue, favourite dildo. This happened the night after he slept with Cas for the first time, is the first thing that comes to Dean's mind. Dumbstruck he stands in his bedroom, unable to look away from the video. Then with shaking fingers he starts to dial the number of the police station, where Benny works. Benny was the officer who worked Alistair's case and he knows Dean.  
  
It takes just a few seconds before Benny picks up the phone, “Hey brother, nice to hear that you still exist.”  
  
Dean doesn't have any time to joke around with Benny, or apologize that he hasn't called lately.  
  
“Benny, I have a problem,” he says with a shaking voice, and then tells Benny what exactly has happened. 20 minutes later there is a squad of policemen looking through his entire apartment, trying to find fingerprints, hair, or any other evidence of the person that broke in. If someone broke in. There is not one single sign of a forced entry, and except for Dean's there are no other fingerprints on his second key hidden outside in the hallway.  
  
Dean is still scared and having a panic attack after another, but Benny's presence calms him a bit at least.  
  
“We will find whoever did this, Dean,” he promises.  
  
Unfortunately the police finds nothing. Not one single hint who did this and how. Dean is feeling worse again. He is vulnerable and unsafe. Why would somebody want to stalk him? Of course, there is one person that comes to his mind immediately, but it can't be. Or can it? There is no way Alistair would ever return. Alistair is either dead or on the other end of the world, but definitely not back. Dean refuses to believe that it could be possible.  
  
“I'm really sorry, brother,” Benny says, “but we will keep investigating. Maybe you should crash at a friend's place, though.”  
  
Dean nods. All he wants right now is to flee in Cas' welcoming arms and bury his head in Cas' neck.  
  
The policemen leave his apartment and Dean hurries to clean the mess they made up. Then he grabs his duffle bag, throws a few things inside and walks out of his door and straight into Lilith.  
  
“Oh, hi again,” she grins, “are you feeling better?”  
  
“Yeah, I'm fine,” Dean lies,”thanks.”  
  
He tries to walk downstairs, but Lilith moves in his way.  
  
“I know we don't really know each other, but my brother and I were just about to open a bottle of wine,” she says and shakes her left hand, in which she holds a bottle of red wine, “why don't you join us. I would love to get to know you better,” she adds with a wink.  
  
Actually Dean wants nothing more than to drive to Cas and curl up on Cas' couch. On the other hand, Dean left Cas' apartment only about two hours ago. He is probably still talking with Gabriel and Dean shouldn't interrupt them. This is a big deal for Cas, he figures. And it's not like Dean couldn't use some distraction before he goes to Cas' place.  
  
“Okay,” he says,” lead the way.”  
  
Lilith giggles her child like laughter and walks upstairs. She reminds Dean of a little girl when she does it.  
  
Lilith tells him to sit down on the couch while she prepares the wine. On the couch table there is already an empty bottle of red wine and two empty glasses.  
  
“Hey didn't you say you were drinking with your brother,” Dean asks her when she walks in, two glasses in her hands.  
  
“Oh, yeah. He is probably smoking on the balcony right now,” she says and lifts her glass, “Cheers.”  
  
“Cheers,” Dean says and takes a sip. He usually is not a big fan of wine, but this one is really good. It's sweeter than the wines he has drunken so far. He takes another one. He needs the alcohol to numb his fear. He doesn't feel better at Lilith's place. There is a weird familiarity about it, and it makes Dean uneasy and nervous.  
  
“Have you always lived in this city?” he asks Lilith and takes another sip.  
  
“No, I was born here, but I moved a lot around with my brother in our early twenties,” she says. She tells him about her travels, about all the places she has seen and Dean finally starts to relax.  
  
This day has been so exhausting and stressful and he feels so tired. He could probably fall asleep on Lilith's couch right now.  
  
“This has been nice,” he yawns,” but I should get going.”  
  
The moment he gets up there is a dizziness overcoming him and he falls back onto the couch. His vision is suddenly blurred, he wants to say something, but his mouth isn't working anymore. God, he is so tired.  
  
A figure steps out of one room and says, “Yeah, I don't think so sweetheart.”  
  
Then Dean's vision goes black.


	22. In which we take a look into a psycho's head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING THIS CHAPTER IS PRETTY DARK SINCE IT'S THE STALKER'S POV. IT FEATURES ANIMAL CURELTY, MENTION OF MURDER AND MENTION OF DUBCON
> 
> anyways sorry that it took me so long to update, I hate writing angst, and I kinda hate how dark this all got, but bare with me please (the next few chapters will be dark too, I'm so sorry)

  
Alistair's Lips curl into a cruel smile as he looks at Dean. Dean’s asleep, helpless and vulnerable. Finally, finally he has Dean where he wants him. After months, years.  
  
Alistair had travelled a lot. Seen the world. Left his mark. He always had a thing for claims. Alistair’s blood boils now that he sees that Dean's scars had disappeared. It gives the illusion that Dean is free. It leaves the ludicrous impression that Dean is no longer his.  
  
Oh how wrong, he thinks with a chuckle. He can't wait to slice Dean open again, to make Dean hurt in the way he’s always loved to hurt, to demonstrate his possession, his power. Dean will crumble to the ground wishing Alistair had never left, wishing he could still try to be a good boy. Alistair's chuckle turns into laughter. He had missed Dean, his silent pleas, his sobbed begging. Dean never looked so beautiful like when his eyes were reddened, his face wet with tears, and his mouth torn into a whimper.  
  
Mine, he thinks.  
  
Teaching a creature to fear is a thing Alistair always loved. But more so, he loved controlling it, it's body, it's mind. Breaking it slowly, taking it apart piece by piece until nothing more is left than silent obedience and numbness. And when it's empty and drained, when there is no wish to live, take the last breath. But take it slowly. It's a form of art, difficult and easily done wrong. There has to be creativity and brilliance. The ability to understand the balance between psychological and physical torture.  
  
He had started early. With delight Alistair remembers how the tiny wings of a fly had caught fire. How he had captured a dragon fly and had ripped it apart. With a knife he had cut off a piece of it's tail, inch after inch after inch. Until he had been sure it was dead. But it soon had been boring. Insects were easily smashed. There was no intelligence involved, no challenge, no will. They didn't cry, they didn't scream, they didn't beg. Nothing he could work with, an artist without a muse.  
He had tried it with mice. They had been as disappointing as the insects. Nothing more than dirty parasites. There was nothing to break, he could rip them apart. But only their bodies not their spirit. He shouldn't have wasted his brilliance on the scum. Then he had tried it with cats. His sister's cat, Lucy. He had never liked her, a nasty beast, scratching his arms, hissing hateful whenever he got too close.  
  
What a clever animal she had been, he realizes.  
  
He had taken Lucy and had tied her on a table in the backyard. The cat had struggled, but her efforts were without success. In the end the cold metal of the knife's blade had pressed against her black, warm fur. He had been able to feel her tiny heart beat. Anxious and fast. It had skipped a beat the moment the tip of the knife went through her skin. A heart breaking meow had escaped her, for Alistair it had been a symphony. The cut hadn't been deep, but deep enough to let blood extravagant. With fascination the young boy had stared at the red, sticky liquid. How it had turned the black fur even darker, how it had dripped from the shaking body to the ground, leaving red stains.  
It had felt so satisfying, so right until a voice had said, “You can do better.”  
Lilith had been sitting there in silence, watching her brother torturing her cat. Her face had been cold and emotionless. She hadn't cried, hadn't been angry about her cat. And Alistair had understood, they were the same. It had been the moment she became his personal advisor, his confidant. He had stroked the cat, stopped the bleeding, and had given her food. The cat had started to relax, to feel safe again. Exactly what she had been supposed to do. Alistair had already lifted the knife again. But before he had been able to finish his art work, their mother had shown up. There had been crying. A furious father. Punches. But every time the knuckles had bruised his skin, Alistair couldn't have helped it and smiled. He had felt pride and happiness. His father had been plump, stupid, just punching.  
  
There had been no thought behind it, no plan, no beauty. It had supposed to hurt. Hurt immediately and hurt much. It hadn't been art, it had been too fast, too careless, too harmless. His stupidity had disgusted Alistair. That is the reason why he had given his father a quick death. He simply hadn't deserved Alistair's torture. He hadn't been worthy. A simple shot in the head. His father hadn't even begged for his life. His mother had. That's why she had been his second kill. She had tried to reach the little boy inside him, the son. But she hadn't realized that she had given birth to a demon. He had liked calling himself that, had liked to hear her say it with her last breath. Demons are feared. Fear equals power. Power equals superiority. And that is what he is, superior. A hurricane to a wave. A fire to a flame. A lion to a cat.  
  
Cats are clever though, they run away if they are treated badly. So had Lucy. It had angered Alistair since he hadn't been able to finish his first masterpiece. Dogs, he had found out, were much more naïve. They stayed, loyal to their master, no matter what their master did. Humans were just like them, you just had to play them right. With humans, there also came the joy of sexual relief. And a whole different way to torture.  
  
That's the reason why Alistair likes to call his victims bitches. Dean had been his favourite bitch. He hadn't been the first one, but the first one Alistair had wanted to play with longer. He always got rid of his bitches after a month or two. Dean had been different. Like a cat plays with it's food before it is eaten, Alistair had wanted to play with Dean. Hold Dean in his claws. Even though he had hated Lucy, he had started to like cats. They were like him. Clever, cruel, able to move unnoticed. The later one Alistair had to do. He had to flee. And just like Lucy had been his unfinished masterpiece, Dean had become a half drawn painting. But returning had been too dangerous.  
  
So Alistair had looked out for a new piece of art. But none of them had satisfied him as much as Dean could have. But there had been one boy, who had gotten close. Alfie. Pure, innocent Alfie. He had been so eager to please, so manipulated he had thought he loved Alistair. His parents hadn't cared, Alistair pretended he did. It had been easy to twist Alfie's mind. Even as he had been lying on the floor, used, broken, magnificent, he had tried to keep Alistair. It had been tempting. He had been the youngest, the most inexperienced. That had made it so much more delicious. Alistair sometimes still feels the clotted blood under his nails, and has the salty taste of Alfie's tears and sweat on his tongue. Though it hadn't been the physical damage that Alistair had enjoyed the most. It had been the psychological. Telling Alfie nobody except for Alistair loved him, making Alfie feel worthless, taking everything Alfie had. Hurting Alfie with words, making him fear Alistair's voice. Alfie had been one of the few believing it immediately. Others it took more to convince that they had nothing but Alistair. But in the end Alfie had been just a work of art, not a masterpiece.  
  
Alistair had become frustrated after Alfie. No matter how satisfying his play was, he would always think of Dean. He had known that he couldn't return to Dean, but there had been another place where he could return. His old home.  
  
The old house had still been standing. He had sat down in the backyard and thought about the beginning. He had considered giving up. There had been no delight anymore. It had bugged him that there was unfinished business. He had hit rock bottom. And in that right moment two glowing eyes had stared at him and a hateful hiss had echoed through the yard. Alistair had been able to see the scar. The fur had never grown over it.  
  
Looks like I'm not the only stray returning home, he had thought. But I'm the only one leaving it again.  
  
He hadn't killed an animal since he had killed his parents, but it had been the first kill to fill him with joy since he had left Dean. It had taken him years, but he had finished his first masterpiece. He had been so pleased with himself. He had whistled a melody, old and forgotten. His mother had sung it often. Ten little soldiers, he had snorted. It always had fascinated him, a song written for children, yet so dark and twisted. The last verse had echoed through his head:  
  
  
One little solider left alone, he went out and hanged himself and then there were none.  
  
A perfect crime. No survivors, no dirty deaths, everything perfectly planned. His actions had been like the song, all except one. The last solider. Dean. Alistair had known he couldn't continue his passion, if he had unfinished work, if one had been left. So he had returned.  
  
It had surprised him how careless Dean had become. Braking in in his apartment had been easy, considering that there was a second key hidden in the hallway. Installing the camera had been easy as well. Dean hadn't even noticed.  
  
Alistair had taken his time, had spied on Dean. He needed to know every single, little detail. His masterpiece would take some time. It hadn't been a problem until Castiel had shown up. A one-night-stand he could have forgiven Dean, but this Castiel had shown up again and again.  
  
One night Alistair couldn't bare it any longer. He had to touch Dean, to smell him, feel him. Dean had been at the roadhouse dancing. Alistair had danced right behind him, grinding against Dean's back. It had felt so right. And when he had placed his hands on Dean's hip, oh it had been heaven. Until out of nowhere a really drunk Castiel had shown up and had dragged Dean out of the club. It had taken all of Alistair's strength to stay calm and not do something stupid. He couldn't allow himself to draw attention. It had been so the most difficult when Castiel had shown up at the garage the same day Alistair had. The victory of Bobby not recognising him had been gone the moment Dean and Castiel had been reunited again.  
  
Oh, he could have burned the garage down right then, punishing Dean for forgetting him and punishing Castiel for taking what was not his. But it would not have felt right. Rage sometimes made the most beautiful works, but it never created a masterpiece. He had to do something about Castiel though. So he had told Lilith to focus on Dean, he would take care of Castiel. He had to do it clever though. He wanted to send Dean a warning as well. And the perfect opportunity came. The street had been crowded, Castiel had looked at his phone and with one, quick movement Alistair had pushed him in front of the car. And for a few hours he had gleamed in golden waves of victory and triumph. Until he heard that Castiel had survived his accident. The warm, satisfying glow had disappeared and had been replaced with burning fury. Alistair had not been used to things not going like he had planned them. This would be more work than he had originally thought. This Castiel had been much more trouble. So he and Lilith had decided to separate. Lilith would stalk Dean, Alistair would take care of Castiel.  
  
But seeing Castiel having what Alistair craved so much, had been torture. And with every touch, with every meeting, Alistair felt his desperation growing. And then they had started kissing. It had been the last straw, he had to do the final strike soon. So one night he snuck into Dean's apartment and had watched him sleep. It should have been enough, but he couldn't hold back any longer, so he caressed Dean's cheek. A sigh had left his mouth, which had caused Dean to wake up. He had almost caught Alistair. But thank God, Dean hadn't checked the bathroom.  
  
After this he had visited Dean's apartment more often to the dislike of his sister.  
  
“What if you get caught,” she had hissed. And he knew she was right, but Dean had become his addiction. He couldn't go three days without burying his nose in Dean's pillows or sliding his hands over the pile of Dean's clothes. That's how he had snug the pair of panties inside Dean's closet. The same night he had left a rose in front of Dean's door. He had hoped Dean would freak out somehow, but he didn't get anything but a lousy shrug of Dean's shoulders. Lilith had been pissed, but Alistair had simply needed it. Stalking Castiel the entire day was exhausting. Even after Claire had shown up. But at least he now knew Castiel's weakness. And Castiel obviously was Dean's.  
  
After another week he had gotten tired of the observing, he finally wanted to have Dean. But he still had to work out how. So he followed Castiel into the subway and stole his phone. He had just planned to hack it, so he could follow Castiel's and Dean's conversation, but oh it had been his lucky day. He still has no clue how Dean hadn't notice that it was him and not Castiel on the phone. But since he got Dean fucking himself with a toy, Alistair doesn't complain. Dean will get used to his voice again.  
  
Then came an easy part. Print out the pictures, place them in Dean's mail and watch how he freaks out. Happy and pleased he had sat above Dean's apartment and heard how the police tried to find any evidence of him. As if he would leave any. The rest, he had left to Lilith. Let her convince Dean to come upstairs and have a glass of wine, which had been drugged of course.  
  
And now after years he finally has Dean again. He has waited for so long, far too long. It's time to play. He looks at Lilith for a second and she understands. Quickly she hands him a wet cloth, which he slaps against Dean's face.  
  
“Wake up, bitch,” he snarls, and Dean's eyes fly open. A shocked gasp escapes his lips, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.  
  
“Miss me?” Alistair asks with an evil grin. Oh this is gonna be so much fun.


	23. In which you can't out run your past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I hate myself for this? Yes. I am so sorry, I can't stress it enough this was never planned. A huge sorry for all those that came for the fluff and the smut.  
> Also we are coming closer to the end, I am not ready, I guess neither are you. But please don't forget these are still my babies and I might be evil, but I still have a heart. So trust me please.

  
Dean's view is blurred, his eyes burning, eyelids heavy. Dizzily, he blinks a few times, but his vision stays the muted. He closes them again. He notices that he is lying on a bed, but it doesn't have the same comfort and safety as his own or Cas'. Why is he in the bed of a stranger? Just like his view, his memories are also hazy. There is an uncomfortable hum underneath his skull and a sour, bitter taste on his tongue. It makes him want to vomit. Especially with the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Also there is this… smell, this familiar, yet long forgotten smell. Gin and cigarettes.  
  
Dean tries to focus, tries to remember what happened, and tries to understand why this smell makes his body tense up like someone is pressing a blade against the skin of his throat.  
  
Suddenly there is a dull pain on his cheek, followed by a wet sensation and Dean's eyes fly open. He tries to sit up, but fails. Something cold and metal cuts in his wrists and he notices that he is tied to the bed. Panic rushes through his veins while his vision finally sharpens. But he doesn't like what he is seeing.  
  
“Miss me?” the voice hasn't changed at all. It's still a mixture of honey and smoke running down a throat. Raw, so sweet and persuasive. You want to be praised and complimented by the voice, but you also fear it.  
  
The man to whom the voice belongs has changed though. His former muscular body is now lean, his always shaven face is covered with a brown beard, you can even detect hints of grey. His eyes aren't less scary, but framed by dark eye rings. Just one thing has stayed the same, his evil grin. Dean doesn't remember when exactly the sweet smile turned into a monstrous flash of teeth, but, oh, he does remember those twisted lips. They haunt him in every nightmare.  
  
Maybe that's what's happening. Maybe Dean is dreaming and Alastair is nothing else but a product of his fantasy. It's a delusional hope, and Dean knows it. He knows that there won't be an angelic version of Cas perking over his shoulder, that this time he won't defeat Alastair.  
  
“Well, I really missed you,” Alastair rips Dean out of his thoughts. He caresses his thumb over Dean's jaw and the urge to vomit grows. He is so close Dean can feel his breath hot on his skin. Years ago, he would have lowered his head by now and stared at the floor. But now he stares straight into Alastair's cruel eyes. He is still too shocked to speak, or to scream, but he is not going to submit. Those days are long gone.  
  
But suddenly Alastair's grip around his jaw tightens and Dean is pulled forward for a kiss. Disgust burns through Dean’s entire body, the urge to vomit is no longer an urge and Dean gags. Panically he bites Alastair's tongue until he tastes blood. With a cry of pain Alastair lets go and jumps up. Dean tries not to throw up.  
  
“Bitch,” Alastair curses and wipes a drop of blood from his lips, “Did you forget how to obey your Master?” His eyes are icily threatening as he stares down at Dean, standing above him, lurking, like a vulture at its prey.  
  
“I'm not your bitch anymore,” Dean hisses and then spits in Alastair's face, “You son of a bitch.” It's brave, but also so unbelievable stupid. Dean knows Alastair will punish him for this, knows that there is not even a small chance to get out of here alive. But he’s not giving up without a fight. He might be scared as hell, but he will not go down silently. He’s come too far.  
  
He’s worked through the gay crisis he had after Alastair, he worked through his trust issues; he found Cas. The thought of Cas warms Dean's insides a bit. Like a cocoon, he wraps the thought around him, wishing it would keep him safe. At least Alastair knows nothing about Cas, Dean thinks. He would never be able to forgive himself if Alastair hurt Cas.  
  
But instead of punishing him, Alastair laughs. It's a heartless, hollow laugh and it scares Dean even more.  
  
“How right you are. My mother indeed was a bitch, bending over for my father, being his little chewing toy,” he says. Then he grips Dean's jaw again, this time his fingernails are digging into Dean's flesh. It burns like acid. “She was just a bitch like you are. You are still so good at bending over and you will do it for me again!”  
  
Once again his face is only inches away from Dean's, his grip uncomfortable tight. Dean's heart beats so loud he is sure Alastair can hear it. There is a flicker of madness and brutality in Alastair's eyes and Dean wants nothing more than to look away. But he won't show weakness, he won't give Alastair the satisfaction.  
  
“Never,” he presses through his lips. Alistair just raises an eyebrow.  
  
“No?” he says with a mocking smile, “I doubt it. But it's your choice after all.”  
  
“What do you mean?” the smile makes Dean even more nervous. He pulls on his restraints again just to keep his shaking hands busy. He’s actually thankful that he’s lying in a bed, his legs wouldn't be able to hold him up right now.  
  
“I mean it would be a tragedy,” Alistair explains with a theatrical voice, “to open up the newspaper one morning and reading about the horrifying accident that killed a certain author and his niece.”  
  
Dean freezes. His throat tightens and he can barely breathe. He feels like somebody tries to drown him in a bucket full of ice water.  
  
“You can't,” he croaks, his mouth dry, his heart beating like drum rolls. Alistair doesn't know about Cas, how could he? And even if he knew about Cas, there is nothing Alistair could do to him or Claire, Dean tries to soothe himself.  
  
“Can't what? Hurt Castiel? I thought the first time I pushed him in front of a car was warning enough,” he explains.  
  
Dean can't help but stare at Alistair in disbelieve. All this time he woke up screaming because a monstrous Castiel had tried to kill him in his nightmares. All this time Dean had problems breathing when he saw the scars on Cas' back. All this time he had blamed himself for Cas' accident. And all those times it had been Alistair's fault.  
  
“You're a sick bastard,” he cries out, once more tugging on his restrains. But sadly they stay as taunt as they are.  
  
“I'm not sick. Just bored,” Alistair says calmly, “And you know, if I'm bored I have the most peculiar ideas. I should share them with a creative mind, a mind like the one of your fuck buddy. I'm sure he lets me use his niece for proper demonstration before I move on to him.”  
  
Alistair chuckles and Dean becomes pale. Alistair is not bluffing and Dean doesn't really have a choice. He can't let Cas get hurt. Not again. Cas already went through so much and now he has to take care of a teenager, no Dean can't let that happen. He'd rather die, which is probably not that unlikely.  
  
“And if you don't get bored?” he whispers, his eyes glued to the floor, “If you had a toy to play with?”  
  
“It depends how well the toy behaves.”  
  
“If I promise not to fight, struggle, or flee?”  
  
“Then I promise not to harm Castiel,” Alistair kneels down on the bed, Dean's torso between his legs. “Do we have a deal?” he asks. His body is heavy and warm, his knees pressing almost painfully in Dean's sides.  
  
Dean just nods, his eyes pressed close. He can't bear to look at Alistair.  
  
“Answer me!” Alistair growls.  
  
“Yes,” Dean hurries to say.  
  
“Yes, what?” fingernails are digging into the flesh of his jaw again and Dean's eyes fly open.  
  
“Yes, master,” he answers, his voice broken just like his spirit. He is defenceless, captured and a piece of wax in Alistair's hand. He knows there is no point in fighting anymore, not if it means that Cas could get hurt.  
  
“Alright,” Alistair says, and he lets go of Dean's jaw. His head falls back into the bed while Alistair takes off his restrains.  
  
“And now strip and then lie down on your stomach,” he commands, and Dean obeys.  
  
He tries not to cry when he lies down and Alistair strokes his hair, whispering “Good boy,” into Dean's ear. His chest is pressed against Dean's back, his one hand gliding over Dean's naked hips. Even the gentle touch burns. After all those years trying to forget the feeling, trying not to flinch every time someone touched him. Dean buries his head in the pillow. He wants to run away, hide.  
  
Maybe someone will find me, Dean thinks. Someone will wonder where I am.  
  
“Nobody will,” Alistair still whispers in his ear, by now his fingers are scratching over Dean's skull, “Your brother is busy studying, your boss knows that you are on vacation, and if you think Castiel cares for you and actually wonders what you are doing, you are wrong.”  
  
Dean wants to curl up into a ball while Alistair works him open sloppily . He feels so empty. Left alone. Cold. Which is ironic, he thinks considering the burning pain he feels when Alistair pushes inside him. A desperate snort escapes his mouth, but turns into a sob as soon as Alistair starts to thrust inside him. Dean's hands are twisting in the sheets and his entire body tenses up. It's like poison penetrating him, rushing through his veins. Dean's breath hatches, he is in pain. It burns like acid, yet cold spreads through Dean's entire body, tightening his chest.  
  
Alistair punctuates every word with a painful thrust, “As if anybody could ever love you.”  
  
Dean wants to cry out, it hurts. It hurts so much, the words almost worse than the physical pain. It's true: why should anybody love him? And even if Cas had loved him, he wouldn't anymore after this. After Dean bending over, letting himself get fucked. If Cas finds out he is going to be disgusted, as much as Dean is right now.  
  
Alistair is right. this is all he is: a good, little bitch. But he swallows down his whimpers and bites his lips, so he will stay silent, keeping this last satisfaction from Alistair. But he can't hold back the tears anymore that are rolling down his cheeks.  
  
Everything is hot and it burns, yet Dean shivers. The burning feeling paralyses his body. There’s nothing he can do but lie there and take it. A numb feeling is overcoming his body, and the cold spreads further. He doesn't know if his body is in so much pain that he is numb, or if his soul is so numb that he is in pain. No matter what he wants to scream in agony. Not that it would change a thing. It's hopeless, But even if he screamed so loud the entire city could hear him, it would change nothing. There is no way out, no escape. Just Alistair brutal thrusts and Dean's empty mind.  
  
Even if someone found him, he'd still be Alistair's. Alistair marked him up, invisible scars on the inside that always showed, and visible scars on the outside that faded. But Dean knows how much Alistair likes to paint his skin in red and blue and with every thrust he rips Dean apart more and more.  
  
There is nothing he can do. No escape, no way out. He can only lie there and take it, hope that it will be over soon. Desperately he tries to distract himself, but it doesn't work. The thought of Cas that made him feel warm and safe before, now makes his guts twist. He is betraying Cas. Cas who will hate him for this. Cas who he will probably never see again. Something tightens in his chest, mixing perfectly with the cold filling his lungs. There is nothing to make him feel better. No way to end this. Dean is tired of fighting back. He has no energy left. Not to hold a pleasant memory, nor the sheets he had held so desperately.  
  
Alistair's last push is so forceful Dean almost crashes into the wall. But he can't bring himself to care. He barely notices how Alistair gets up and leaves the room. Only the noise of the closing door slowly brings Dean back.  
  
First then Dean tastes the blood in his mouth. He must have bitten down on his lips too hard trying not to make a sound. By now he can't hold it back any longer. His entire body jerks while he sobs. He just lies there shaking, crying, completely alone in the darkness of the strange room. There is nobody to hold him. Nobody to whisper sweet things in his ear. Nobody to fall asleep next to. There is only this empty feeling and a mixture of guilt and disgust. Dean wants to pull his legs up to his chest, curl up in a foetus position. But he can't. He can't do anything. He just lies there and cries. And after a while he can't do even that anymore.


	24. In which you have to hold your breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry it took me so long, but I was busy with gishwhes, which I hope is a good enough excuse. Uhm yeah here is the last chapter (before the epilogue which i will hopefully update tonight or tomorrow, don't worry you won't have to wait so long)

  
His heartbeat echoes through the entire room. It's either way too slow or way too fast, Dean can't tell the difference anymore. He doesn't know if it's night or if it's day. If this is a nightmare or if he is actually awake. He is drugged. That is for sure. The water Alistair gave him was way too sweet. Dean should be thankful. The drugs might make him more willing to spread his legs, but they also numb the pain. Alistair loves his screams, but it is not half as fun when Dean is passed out from it, he tells Dean.  
  
Dean can't see his back, but he feels the scab of the cuts Alistair left there. He probably looks like a Picasso painting covered in yellow, green, blue and red.  
  
His face rests on the stained matters. It smells like blood, cum and sweat. Dean would vomit if he had enough strength, or cry, hell he would probably even pray. But the room is spinning, his body is hurting and his mind is hazy. His mouth is open and dry. Oh how much Dean would love to have some water right now. Drugged or not, he only gets water after he sucks Alistair off and only if he swallowed everything. If he isn't going to die from the pain and the blood loss, dehydration will be is undoing.  
  
Suddenly something buzzes against his prostate and Dean tenses up. Yeah, right, Alistair stuffed him full with two vibrators. He remembers how Alistair told him the goal of the day, “Ruin that hungry hole of yours.”  
  
Everyday there was a new goal: fuck Dean until he passes out, punish Dean until he's marked as Alistair's property, edge Dean so long until he begs for relief. Dean hates the last one. He hates how his body betrays him. How there is this illusion of pleasure. It makes Dean feel so filthy.  
  
I'm gonna die, Dean knows that he won't survive this. The only question is when. Dean hopes it will be soon. He can't do this much longer. With every breath he feels the life escaping his body more and more. He is tired, so tired. His body starts to feel numb and Dean feels like he is floating. His soul is leaving his body. He wishes he had seen his family before this. See his mother's warm smile, hear his father's barking laugh. Hug Sammy and tease him about his too-long hair. Wish Bobby and Crowley good luck. Play one last round of Mario Kart with Charlie and Jo. His vision gets more and more blurred. And Cas' blue eyes. He wants to stare at them one more time. Dean can clearly see them in front of him. Literally in front of him.  
  
“Dean,” Cas' voice is broken, shocked, terrified.  
  
Dean blinks confused. A warm hand touches his shoulder, another cups his face. There is only one explanation: he is dead.  
  
“If this is heaven, I never want to leave,” he says. His eyelids are so heavy. Sleep, he wants to sleep.  
  
“Dean, stay with me,” he hears Cas' desperate plea. Cas. Dean's eyes fly open.  
  
“Cas,” he croaks, realizing that he is not dead. That this is very much real. That Cas is really here. Cas shouldn't be here.  
  
“Come on, Dean,” Cas whispers, “Wrap your arm around my neck. I'm gonna get you out of here.”  
  
Cas is in danger. If Alistair sees him, he's a dead man. And if Dean is gone, Cas is dead as well.  
  
“No,” he tries to fight Cas, but his arms are too heavy to lift, ”You need to go! Now!”  
  
“I'm not leaving without you,” Cas says and Dean feels how Cas puts his arm underneath Dean's knees. Does Cas want to carry him out of here bridal style? Dean wonders. His vision is still blurred and everything still spins. Dean tries to focus.  
  
“You...need to...to go,” he pants. Speaking is exhausting. “He's gonna kill you.”  
  
“Slowly,” another voice says from the door, “and I'm gonna make Dean watch.”  
  
Dean spots Alistair standing on the other side of the room. He can't let this happen.  
  
“Not his fault,” he mumbles. It gets more and more difficult to hold his eyes open, “Let him go,” he begs.  
  
He feels how Cas separates his hands form Dean's body and Dean hopes that Cas is clever enough to run. His head hurts so much, everything is so heavy.  
  
“Run, Cas,” he mumbles. His head falls back onto the bed. He sees how Alistair pulls out his knife and walks towards Cas.  
  
No, not Cas, is Dean's last thought before he blacks out.  
  
   
  
There is a constant beep breaking through the silence. Dean's eyes are still closed and heavy. His mouth is still dry, but the spinning stopped. So did the pain. Breathing is easier. Dean still feels sleepy. He blinks a few times and clenches his eyes shut again. He is in a bright, white room. The light burns.  
  
“Ugh,” he groans and slowly opens his eyes again. He starts to adjust to the light in the room. The beep comes from a heart monitor. It's exhausting to move, but Dean turns his head left. On a chair right to his bed sits Sam.  
  
“Dean,” his brother exclaims, “You're awake.” Sam's eyes are red, he looks just as tired as Dean feels.  
  
“Do you need anything?”  
  
“Water,” Dean croaks and Sam hurries to give him a glass. Dean feels better as it runs down his sore throat.  
  
He tries to remember what happened. Why is he in a hospital bed? The last thing he remembers is the darkness in Alistair's apartment.  
  
“Alistair!” he shoots up, “ugh.” Huge mistake, sitting up that sudden hurts like hell.  
  
“Hey, easy,” Sam presses Dean back to bed, “Alistair is locked up, the police won't let him go.”  
  
Dean just nods and slowly sinks back into the pile of pillows.  
  
“What exactly happened?” he asks Sam.  
  
“Benny called Cas, to ask how you feel. Of course you never arrived at Cas' place. Benny told Cas to sit it out and let the police do their job, but Cas was already gone,” Sam has to swallow,” he rushed to your apartment and you weren't there. I think he wanted to ask the neighbours if they had heard or seen anything. When he reached the apartment above yours the door was open and he stepped inside. That's where he found you.”  
  
Dean starts to remember. Cas had tried to get him out of there and then Alistair had shown up.  
  
“Is...is he okay?” he asks scared of the answer.  
  
“Yeah...he...he,” Sam stutters, “he fought against Alistair. Tried to keep him away from you. The police arrived only a few minutes later.”  
  
Dean nods again and sinks deeper into his pillows. His brain feels like mashed potatoes, his body aches and all Dean wants to do is sleep again. And he does.  
  
The next time he wakes Sam is gone. Instead Cas is sitting right next to him. He looks as exhausted as Dean feels. His face is pale, his eyes tired and there is a bandage placed on his neck.  
  
Why is there a bandage on Cas' neck? Dean wonders until he realizes that Alistair must have hurt Cas there. Guilt over comes him again. Even though he tried his best to keep Cas safe, Cas got hurt.  
  
“'m sorry,” he mumbles. It's difficult to speak, his throat is so dry again.  
  
Cas looks up surprised, he didn't notice that Dean woke up.  
  
“Dean,” he whispers with relief, “Hey, Dean. You're awake.”  
  
Dean just nods and points towards a glass filled with water standing on the table next to Cas. He first needs to drink before he says anything. Cas hurries to hand him the water. Greedily, Dean drinks it all. He feels slightly better now, his vision is more focused and the throbbing pain in his head is fainter.  
  
“Thanks,” he says and hands Cas the glass. Cas looks at him with so much care and devotion it scares Dean.  
  
“Cas?” he asks,” What are you doing here?”  
  
Dean would really like to know. He doesn't understand why Cas is sitting by his side. Why Cas is looking at him as if nothing happened. As if Dean were not broken and disgusting.  
  
“What do you mean?” Cas blinks, confused, “I'm here to check on you. I was so worried.” His voice breaks and he looks down. “I'm so glad that you are still alive,” he adds, “I thought I’d lost you.”  
  
Cas looks up and a sad smile creeps over his face. But Cas is wrong. He had lost Dean. Dean is nothing more than the hollow shell of a man. He’s filthy, he’s scum, he’s not worth Cas' affection and Dean just doesn't understand it. Why is Cas still here?  
  
“You know...you know what,” Dean swallows, “You know what happened to me though?”  
The smile fades and is replaced by a grim look.  
  
“Yes, I know what this bastard did to you,” Cas says, voice low and dangerous.  
  
“Then why are you still here, Cas?” Dean repeats his question, “Why do you still put up with me? I'm not desirable anymore. I'm used. Dirty. Worthless. So why are you still here?” Dean demands to know.  
  
Cas gasps in shock and there is so much sadness in his eyes, “Dean.”  
  
He is going to tell Dean, that he is right. Cas is going to leave him, Dean thinks.  
  
“Do you really believe that?” Cas asks disbelieving, “Do you really believe that you are all those nasty things because you were raped? That this would affect my feelings for you, Dean?”  
  
“But the things I did. Cas, I let him rape me. I let him do it, don't you understand?” tears are running down Dean's face. He doesn't deserve Cas— why doesn't Cas see it?  
  
“Stop blaming yourself, it's not your fault!” Cas says, “You didn't let him rape you, he raped you. Period. And it doesn't change how I see you, how I feel about you,” Cas takes a huge breath, “It doesn't change the fact that I love you.”  
  
Dean's mouth falls open. He thought, assumed, hoped, but never knew for sure. And he thought that after this, Cas could never love him. But Dean was wrong.  
  
“I love you, Dean,” Cas whispers and softly takes Dean's hand in his own.  
  
The thing about those three, little, magical words is that they are sadly not magical at all. They can't turn back time, prevent things from happening. They can't erase the memories or heal the scars deep down inside Dean's soul. The broken can't be fixed with those three words. The words “I love you” aren’t some kind of ace card you hide up in your sleeve and pull out to win the game.  
  
But there are other three, little words that might work a bit magic. Whispered I got you's to reassure Dean after his nightmares. Soft It's okay's every time Dean flinches and shies away when Cas suddenly touches him.  
  
But of course, even their magic is limited.  
  
The first weeks Dean is distant. He doesn't speak, barely leaves the bed. He’s moved in with Cas. He couldn't stand the emptiness of his apartment, nor the similarity it had with Alistair's.  
  
Cas doesn't mind that Dean occupies his bed. He brings Dean food, makes sure Dean is covered under a blanket and doesn't push him. Every night Cas asks him if he should hold him. Sometimes Dean thankfully cuddles in Cas' arms. But sometimes he just shakes his head because he can't bear to be touched, no matter how gentle, how loving. In those nights Cas asks if he should sleep on the couch and give Dean his space, but Dean shakes his head. It's Cas' bed after all, Cas' apartment, Cas' life. And Dean invaded it. He feels guilty about it. Guilty for everything that happened with Alistair, even though Cas constantly tells him that it is not his fault. Guilty for not being able to say I love you back. Guilty for using Cas' hospitality and not even being able to show affection or thankfulness. Cas probably regrets telling Dean he loves him already. He only allows Dean to live in his apartment because he pities Dean. It's just a matter of time before Cas kicks him out, Dean thinks.  
  
  
But Cas doesn't. He remains as sweet and caring as always. He asks Dean if he wants Sam or his parents or other friends to visit him. But Dean shakes his head. He doesn't want them to see him like this. His eyes are reddened all the time, his once muscular body became lean and scraggy. He doesn't have the energy to eat properly and it shows. There are dark shadows under his eyes that are no longer shining, but dull and empty. Just like Dean's mind.  
  
He lies in the dark and empty room, captured in a vortex of guilt and shame. If Cas knew about his feelings he wouldn't leave Dean's side for a second. But Dean wants this. He deserves this. He knows it's what is left of Alistair's manipulation, but Dean can't fight it. There are days he wants do die. Days on which he wishes Cas had never found him. Death seems such a sweeter choice than slowly letting his body turn into a rotting corpse. His soul is long dead. Or it would be, weren't it for Cas' desperate tries to save him. What a waste of time, Dean thinks. Then he feels guilty for Cas again and tries to live a day longer.  
  
Surprisingly it\'s Claire who gets him to leave Cas' room for the first time. Dean has seen her a few times; she has brought him food when Cas wasn't home.  
  
It's Sunday morning when she enters the bedroom. Cas is having a meeting with Chuck and promised to be back in the evening. God knows why they always meet up on Sundays.  
  
“Hey, Dean,” she says, and Dean looks up from his pile of pillows. He also feels guilty about her. She hasn't invited friends over from school, or played music too loud. She has tiptoed through the apartment like she was the stranger and not Dean. That's not how a teenager should live.  
  
“There is a Star Wars marathon on TV. I have liquorice,” she announces and then leaves the room again. Dean blinks a few times. Was that an invitation? Does she want him to join her?  
  
He stays a few minutes in bed before he decides to get up. He pads out of the bedroom into the living room.  
  
Claire sits on the end of the couch, eyes glued to the TV where Princes Leia sends out a cry for help at Obi Wan. Dean hesitates, but then sits down on the other end of the couch. Claire shoots him a quick glance and then turns her head back to the TV. She hands Dean a bag with liquorice though.  
  
“Classic movie food,” he mumbles almost inaudible and shoves a handful in his mouth. It's the first time he spoke since he moved in. But Claire doesn't make a fuss out of it. She doesn't even look at him in surprise. Instead she has a small smile on her lips and says, “No idea who decided that popcorn would be better.”  
  
They just sit there in silence watching the movies. At some point Claire starts texting someone and Dean feels a pinch of guilt again. It takes him a while before he manages to open his mouth.  
  
“Why don’t you hang out with your friends?” he asks, his voice louder than before. It feels weird to speak after weeks of remaining silent. His tongue feels heavy and the words sound blurry and wrong. He has to swallow.  
  
This time she looks directly at him and raises an eyebrow, “Because it's movie Sunday, duh. It's family tradition.” She stops for a second, “Or at least it was. Cas and I are trying to bring it back. Last Sunday we watched Lord of the Rings.”  
  
Dean realizes that it's the first time he heard her call Cas. Cas and not Castiel. It seems like they bonded. It lightens Dean's chest. At least one part of Cas' life goes well.  
  
“He has promised to be back for the third movie,” Claire adds, “I told him to bring pizza as an apology.”  
  
And he does. Right when C3-P0 explains that the Ewoks think he is some kind of god Cas enters the apartment carrying two boxes with pizza. He doesn't comment on Dean sitting in the living room and not rotting in their bed. Instead he gripes, “You started Return of the Jedi without me?”  
  
“Hey that's completely your own fault,” Claire replies, “Who decided to go to work on movie Sunday?”  
  
“I brought pizza as peace offering!”  
  
“Yeah and the peace means that you are allowed to sit down and watch the rest of the movie with us.”  
  
Cas shakes his head, but grins when he sits down between Dean and Claire. Wow, Dean really missed a lot of development between those two.  
  
Cas hands him a slice of pizza and whispers, “Hello Dean.”  
  
Dean gives him a shy smile and takes the pizza. It reminds him of the first night they spent together not having sex. It was the weekend Cas had locked himself out of his apartment. Dean snickers at the memory and then presses his hand against his mouth in surprise. Claire and Cas seem to feel the same judging by the way they look at him. But while Claire looks generally surprised, there is so much more in Cas' eyes. Relief, hope, affection, love. And it's too much for Dean to take. He gets up and moves back to the bedroom. He lies down and cries. He doesn't cry that often, but right now everything is too much to handle. Moments later he hears someone knock at the door and Cas' head pops through the small gap.  
  
“Dean,” he says, voice wrecked, and pads in. He kneels down next to the bed and lifts his hand to stroke through Dean's hair, but stops the last second.  
  
“Is it okay, if I touch you?” he asks as usual. And Dean hates it. He hates that Cas has to ask for permission to touch Dean. Hates that Cas feels like an intruder in his own bedroom. Hates what he does to Cas.  
  
“I'm so-”  
  
“Don't,” Cas doesn't let him finish his sentence, “Don't you dare to apologize.”  
  
Dean looks up through the haze of tears. Cas doesn't look angry or pissed. His face is gentle.  
  
“May I?” he asks and Dean nods. Cas takes Dean's face in his hands and softly wipes away the tears with his thumb. There is so much Dean wants to say, wants to ask. But he can't bring a single word over his lips. Not anymore. He already spoke too much today. But Cas seems to get what Dean wants to say anyway.  
  
“I don't regret it, if that's what you fear,” he says, “I knew that it wouldn't be easy when I told you I love you. And I still do. I know that you need time and I will grant you as much time as you need. And I don't want your apology, I don't want your guilt nor your self-hatred. There is no reason for any of it.”  
  
There is no way Dean could fall more in love with Cas than now. He loves Cas so much it hurts. And not being able to say it right now hurts even more.  
  
“I know,” Cas says, “I will know kiss your forehead, if that's okay.”  
  
Dean nods and Cas presses a soft kiss against his face. Then he returns to Claire.  
  
Things start to get better after this. Dean only makes little progress, but at least it's progress. He joins Cas and Claire more often in the living room or in the kitchen. Sometimes he joins their conversations as well. Mostly it's only one, tiny sentence, but he talks.  
  
He still wakes up from his nightmares every night though. But instead of curling into a ball and trying to stop shaking, he now curls into Cas' warm arms. He also lets Cas touch him more often. It's only stroking through Dean's hair, or wrapping arms around Dean's body. Sometimes soft kisses on Dean's forehead, but that's it. They haven't kissed, nor did Cas' hands wander beneath Dean's waist. Dean wishes he could give it to Cas, but he can't. Cas doesn't seem to mind though. “All I need is the permission to hold you in my arms,” he says when Dean tries to apologize once more. Even though Dean slowly recovers, the bad feelings don't go away.  
  
There are good days, but there are still bad days. Days just like day one. Dean is shaking, doesn't want to be touched or looked at. He barely breathes because he still remembers the smell of cigarettes and gin. On those days he eyes the sleeping pills in Cas' medicine cabinet or the razor blades on the sink. Days on which feels like he is an abomination, a sickening remnant of what used to be Dean Winchester. And even on those days, when he allows Cas to look at him, Cas still looks at him like Dean hung the moon and painted the night sky with stars. That's a reason why on those days Dean doesn't want to be looked at. He is dirty, filthy, broken. He shouldn't be looked at as if he was a piece of art. Cas should look at him with disgust and hate. Dean wants to yell all this in Cas' face, but he is too weak to raise his voice. Cas though understands him without words. “I will never,” he whispers to Dean when he climbs in bed at the end of those days.  
  
“You could talk to a psychologist?” Cas suggests, “We could let them come over here, if it makes you more comfortable.”  
  
Dean tells Cas he'll think about it. He knows Cas is right and that it's only for his best. But before he lets a stranger inside his head, Dean decides that he wants to see his friends again.  
  
They are sitting at breakfast. Claire is quickly doing her math homework, Cas is at his third cup of coffee and trying to read the newspaper when Dean speaks.  
  
“Would...would it be okay if Charlie and Jo came over tonight? We...we used to play Croatoan on Thursdays,” he stutters.  
  
“Yes, of course,” Cas says quickly after a surprised moment of silence. He gives Dean a smile, “What about Sam? Do you wa-”  
  
“No,” Dean says harshly, “not Sam.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Cas asks.  
  
“Yes, I am. Not Sam,” Dean growls. He can't meet Sam or his parents. He is still too ashamed. He knows that they don't blame him, that they are worried about him. But he can't meet them.  
  
Usually Cas would stop and let Dean be, but today he doesn't.  
  
“He is your brother,” he snaps back, “and he wants to see you.”  
  
“Well I don't want to see him.”  
  
“Dean!”  
  
Dean wants to laugh. It's the first time that Cas is pissed off. It's the first time he pushed Dean and didn't treat him like a precious, little flower. It's the first normal interaction they had in months. Of course Dean is still grateful that Cas asks before he touches Dean and that he doesn't push him. Dean still suffers through PTSD, but for the first time he feels human again. Feels alive. It's weird and he knows it. Getting yelled at shouldn't make him happy, but for a second it's like Alistair never happened.  
  
Cas still glares at him, he doesn't turn pale and hurries to apologize. And it's so refreshing.  
  
“I still need time, okay?” Dean says and Cas' expression softens. “But I will talk to a psychologist,” he adds. That seems to please Cas and he nods. “I'll call Dr. Mills tomorrow,” he says and finishes his coffee.  
  
Later that day Jo and Charlie come over. They are as happy to see Dean as Dean is to see them. He actually manages to hug them and they sit down to kill Zombies on Cas' Play Station.   
  
Claire decides to stay at a friend’s house and Cas eventually joins them. They build teams and start to play against each other.  
  
Everything goes well until Charlie and Jo beat Cas and Dean and Charlie cries out, “Boom bitches, the Queen of Moondoor always wins.”

_What a good little bitch you are_

Dean freezes and sweat starts to run down his back. He tries to breathe, but no air passes through his tightened throat. Words are echoing through his mind.

_Bend over bitch_   
  
_Dirty bitch so hungry for my cock_   
  
_Take it bitch_   
  
_Bitch_   
  
_Bitch_   
  
_Bitch_   
  
_Bitch_

He runs to the bathroom and locks the door. He sinks down the wall and presses his knees against his chest. His heart beats furiously and his breath won't slow down. His entire body is shaking. There is a knock on the door.

_Come out Dean, you can't hide forever_   
  
_Come out, come out, let's play_

Dean is trapped like an animal in the cage, there's no way out. Any minute Alistair will kick in the door and drag him back to bed, if he doesn't take Dean right there on the bathroom floor and fuck him until Dean can't do nothing but crawl. He will punish Dean, slap him, cane him, or already start with his knife.  
  
His eyes end up on the razor blades again. He could try to fight Alistair with them. He could try to escape. But then Alistair would hurt Cas. Dean should be glad that every time he disobeyed Alistair only decided to punish him and not to hurt Cas. Dean still takes one and grips it tight. He feels the cold metal cutting into his flesh. It burns and warm liquid starts to run down Dean's hand. He wonders how often and how deep he has to cut, so Alistair will find nothing but his corpse.  
  
“Dean?” it's soft and warm, not furious or mad. It's Cas' worried voice not Alistair's hateful one.  
  
Dean starts to realize that he is not in Alistair's bathroom, but Cas'. There is no crazy rapist outside his door. The only person there is Cas. Sweet, sane, loving Cas, who is really worried about Dean. With a huge amount of overcoming Dean gets up and unlocks the door. Then he opens it. Cas stands in front of it, his arms hanging slack from his body. He looks like a defeated solider after a long fight, tired and exhausted. But that doesn't stop him from wrapping his arms around and Dean and pressing a tender kiss on the top of Dean's head.  
  
“It's okay,” he says as Dean's tears start to flow, “I got you.”  
  
They stand there for a while, Cas holding Dean, and Dean hiding his face in Cas' chest. Then Cas notices Dean's injured hand and Dean fears that Cas will get mad. But instead he looks just sad.  
“Let me take a look at this,” Cas says and leads Dean inside the bathroom again. Dean sits down on the edge of the bathtub while Cas cleans his wound and wraps a bandage around it. When he is done, he presses a short kiss against Dean's hand and then leads Dean into the bed. Dean starts to relax in Cas' arms.  
  
“He always called me his bitch,” Dean mumbles after a while. It's also one of the things he tells Dr. Mills during their first session. Talking to a psychologist helps. Dr. Jody Mills is really nice and good at her job. She shares an office with her wife Dr. Donna Hanscum, who is even friendlier and seriously hands Dean a lollipop the first time he meets her. It takes Dean a month until he manages to visit her there. Cas is so proud that he bakes a pie. But it's not only a reward for Dean, no. Cooking and baking has turned into Cas' personal stress relief. Dean still feels bad for their non-existant sex life. He tries to apologize to Cas that night, but Cas won't have any of it. He doesn't care if they don't have sex right now, of if they don't have sex in the next year. If Dean never feels ready to sleep with Cas again, Cas is fine with it.  
  
“I'm just happy I have you,” he tells Dean and kisses Dean's temple, “I love you.” And for the first time those three little words start a warm tingling inside Dean's stomach. God, how he had missed this feeling. Maybe the words do have a bit of magic. Dean still can't say them back. All he can say is “Thank you.” And Cas knows what it means.  
  
Charlie and Jo come over on a regular basis. But first Charlie apologizes ten thousand times and Dean tells her the same amount of times that it's okay.  
  
Two more months pass until Dean picks up the phone and dials a number.  
  
 _“Hello?”_  
  
“Heya Sammy,” Dean tries to hold back his tears. Cas’ fingers slip between Dean's, and Cas' thumb rubs soothingly over Dean's hand.  
  
Two weeks later, Mary and John stand in front of Cas' door. Mary hugs Cas while John shakes his hand and gives him a severe look.  
  
“Hey, Mum. Hey, Dad. This is Cas, my boyfriend,” Dean introduces them.  
  
By now Dean has gained some weight again. There are still shadows under his eyes, but his eyes are no longer empty. They still don't shine, but they aren't dull either. Sam and Gabriel join them a few minutes later. They have small talk trying to avoid the elephant in the room. But at some point John starts asking questions. For example, why Dean didn't try to flee. John's wording is so bad, it sounds like he is accusing Dean, shaming him.  
  
Mary is shocked at her husband's behaviour, Gabriel and Sam are speechless. Dean is unable to answer. It only makes John more aggressive.  
  
“Well I told you nothing good would come from being a faggot. I knew this would happen again, sooner or later.”  
  
That is the moment Cas punches John in the face. John stumbles back, surprised, he touches his nose. A red trail of blood is running down from it.  
  
“Get out,” Cas hisses.  
  
“How dare you,” John yells, but Cas grabs his collar and pulls him close. It looks absurd because John is at least two inches taller than Cas. But that doesn't stop Cas.  
  
“I said," his voice low and dangerous, “Get the fuck out of my house, or I'll call the cops. Understood?”  
  
John nods. He was in the army, he shouldn't be frightened by Cas. But Cas eyes glisten with anger and John realizes that Cas would do anything to protect the ones he loves. And he loves Dean. If anybody just dares to lay a finger on Dean, Cas will kill them.  
  
“Good,” Cas says and lets go of John, “Mary, it was nice meeting you. You are always welcome here. You are not,” he adds and looks at John.  
  
After this Dean gets worse again. Cas apologizes and Dean tells him not to be ridiculous. Mary visits them again and apologizes for John. Dean tells her the same. His dad always had trouble accepting Dean's bisexuality, it got even worse after Sam came out. Dean getting raped was the best opportunity for John to let out all his homophobia.  
  
Dean is getting frustrated. For every step he takes, he gets two steps thrown back. He hides his face in Cas' shirt and cries the entire night.  
  
“I'm so sick of it,” he sobs, “I'm sick of being broken. I don't want you need for my permission to touch me. I don't want people to need watching their language so I don't get triggered. I'm tired of not kissing you, I'm tired of not being able to tell you what you mean to me. I hate it. I hate it so much and I want it to stop.”  
  
Cas just tightens his embrace and says, “I know. We will get there, I promise.”  
  



	25. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I might be crying a bit right now, this is it guys, the final chapter.  
> First of all thanks for all your kind comments and all the kudos, they kept me writing and inspired me.  
> Thanks to my beta blueeyeddoeeyed, without her my story would not be as good as it is now.  
> Also thanks to the person who wrote a short rec in this one destiel group on facebook, it made my day :)  
> Last but not least, Kem, I'm sorry, I spoilered you and then told you I didn't.

  
_3 years later_

“We're gonna be late,” Cas half hisses, half moans, and Dean can't help but smile.  
  
“Shhh,” he whispers into Cas’ lips.   
  
Cas sits in the kitchen chair, Dean in his lap. Dean's arms are lazily hanging over Cas' shoulder, chests pressed together. Dean can feel Cas' heart beat right next to his own. He circles his hips slowly, grinding down on Cas, causing him to moan again. “Nobody will notice if we are a little bit late.”  
  
“I'm sure the two best men missing will not go unnoticed,” Cas manages to say before a whine escapes his throat, “Dean.”  
“I've got you,” Dean whispers while he continues moving up and down.  
  
“Sam is gonna kill… mmpff” Cas is shut up with another kiss.  
  
“Saturday morning is lazy sex in the kitchen morning,” Dean declares, “Their fault that they decided to get married on a Saturday.” And he means it. Saturday morning belongs to him and Cas and not even the wedding of his brother is gonna keep him from making love with his boyfriend. And yes making love because it's sappy and lovey-dovey and all Dean wants on a relaxed Saturday morning. Also it\'s a better method to change Cas' grumpy mood than three cups of coffee.  
  
“Mhm, you're right,” Cas finally agrees and Dean can feel Cas smile against his lips while Cas hands grip Dean's hip to steady him. “They can wait.”  
  
   
  
Thank God Gabriel and Sam are far too nervous and excited to notice that their brothers a later than they should be. The ceremony is beautiful and Dean actually cries a little as Sam walks down the aisle. He is just so happy for his little brother. He glances over to Cas who also seems like he is holding back his tears. He catches Dean's glance and gives him a quick smile.  
  
“You make me a better person, you see only the best in me and I love you for it. I love the library trapped inside your brain, I love your compelling puppy eyes. I love your blinding, bright smile and I love waking up next to you every morning. I love you despite your unnatural height, your perfect hair and your weird love for salad,” Gabriel sobs his vows and everybody giggles.  
  
“You always support me and are cheering me up. I can always find solace in your arms and I'm the happiest person in the world because I'm allowed to marry you today.”  
  
The entire church coos a collective “aww,” and with trembling hands Gabriel and Sam exchange wedding rings. Their kiss is slightly awkward due to their height difference,  
  
Gabriel jumps up and wraps his legs around Sam's waist. [  
  
Afterwards Gabriel and Sam excuse themselves for a short moment while everybody else heads to the wedding reception.  
  
Dean gets hugged and congratulated by friends and familiar faces. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spots Cas and his mom. Mary got divorced from John two years ago and Dean is happy that she came today. Not that she would not have wanted to come, but travelling all the long way from Kansas is more difficult on her own. Mary smiles at Cas and yells “Yes!” all of a sudden before she pulls Cas into a hug.  
  
Smiling Dean walks over to the both of them. He wonders what Cas told her.  
  
“Hey, babe. Hey, Mom,” he greets them and kisses Mary on the cheek.  
  
“Hi, Honey,” she says and hugs him, “You look beautiful.” Her hands cling to the fabric of his tux and she gives him a smile.  
  
“If you two will excuse me for a second, I need to do something,” Cas says mysteriously.  
  
“Of course,” Mary smiles before Dean can protest.  
  
“What was that all about?” he asks her as soon as Cas is gone.  
  
“You will find out soon,” she giggles and then holds out her arm, “Will you guide me to our table?”  
  
With a grin he takes her arm and leads her into the big dining hall. The tables already begin to fill. He waves at Jo, Charlie, Anna and Balthazar who are chatting excitedly and shoot Dean curious glances. Also, as they walk past Bobby, who is busy fixing Crowley's tie gives him a weird look. What is up with everybody? Dean wonders, is there something on his face?  
  
“Thanks, Honey,” Mary says after she sat down. Dean is about to sit down next to her as his phone vibrates.

**Could you please meet me at the bar – Sam**

Dean is now even more confused. Why would Sam want to meet him at the bar? He looks at the other side of the room, Sam isn’t even there yet. With a shoulder shrug and a deep sigh, he gets up and walks towards the bar. Whatever the groom wants, he tells himself.  
  
Impatiently he taps his fingers on the top of the bar. Where is Sam?  
  
Suddenly somebody taps him on the shoulder, “Hi, I'm sorry to bother you.”  
  
Dean turns around and Cas is standing in front of him, a big smile on his lips, yet his hands are shaking slightly. Dean is about to ask why Cas would be bothering him, but Cas already interrupts him.  
  
“But I'm trying to convince my friends that I'm the perfect match,” he says and point behind him. The eyes of the entire hall are on them. Is this some kind of joke? A prank? Dean is confused until Cas sinks down on one knee, “So would you please say yes to my proposal and marry me?”  
  
Dean doesn't hesitate and does the thing he wanted to do the second he met Cas, he grabs his collar and pulls him up for a kiss. He feels like he is floating inches above the floor and warm, tingling happiness is spreading through his entire body. He loves Cas so much it hurts and Cas loves him back, despite everything that happened. Despite all their struggles and problems. Dean's life is not perfect, but it just got so much better. Not writing a fake number, but his own on Cas' napkin has been the best decision of his life. Well second best, right behind agreeing to marry Cas.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you liked the story, feel free to yell at me on [tumblr](http://fallenfortherighteous.tumblr.com/)


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